


Fated Paths

by franscats



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 51,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5328911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franscats/pseuds/franscats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Remy was abandoned in Antarctica, Sinister took an interest in him and his abilities.  Remy escaped but Sinister wants him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The X-men belong to Marvel...I'm not making any money......I' m just borrowing their characters for a little while.

Remy LeBeau glanced around the street wondering, not for the first time, why he was there. He was standing in the heart of Manhattan, Times Square, looking at the neon lit signs with no real purpose or destination in mind. He had no intention of going up to Westchester, not after what had happened in Antarctica, so why he was this far north he couldn’t guess. Born and bred a southerner, he disliked the cold in general and since nearly freezing to death, couldn’t stand it anymore. The slightest hint of cold weather made his fingers and toes ache and the cold had even penetrated into his heart with the desertion of his so called teammates. But some part of his being wouldn’t let him rest without some kind of closure from his so called friends and so he wandered New York City unsure how to end this obsession.

Sighing, he turned and walked down Broadway trying not to think about what had happened, but it seemed to churn inside of him, invading every pore like some kind of poison. Especially considering what had happened after they left him, but Remy stopped with a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold and turned away from that memory seeing a strange looking, shabby storefront that had no right to be housed in this prosperous, posh neighborhood. It was a dirty window, small and tacky with a sign on the door of the shop promising accurate fortune telling. With nothing better to do he went inside to see how this person would try and con him. Remy was a master thief, an artist at his trade, a master of conning others, and was intrigued with the sign and the store so out of place within the overly priced real estate of Midtown.

Walking in, he wrinkled his nose, smelling strange scents. He picked out sandalwood, patchouli, and mint immediately, but there were other less distinct scents in the dark room. Around the shop he could see bunches of flowers drying and hanging from ropes on the ceiling, various ingredients for potions, some once living but now dried remains, some he didn’t even want to guess what were. The shop reminded him of home and the voodoo practitioners of New Orleans and made him homesick for the place he had been happiest in and was banished from. He had once considered Westchester home as well, but not anymore and some part of him ached to belong somewhere to someone but it didn’t seem to be his lot in life. Angry with himself, with for caring that he had lost a second home, he glanced around inspecting this strange and out of place shop.

In the corner of the shop, before the obligatory crystal ball resting on a burnt and very worn wooden stand, sat an old woman with cataracts covering the pupils of both eyes and the Cajun realized she was almost completely blind. Remy guessed she could be near one hundred from the look of her, with her wiry white, thin hair, and wrinkled face and she sat with sightless eyes watching him, one skeletally thin hand on the crystal ball, the other on a pack of tarot cards.

“Come child,” she called out in a voice that cracked with age and feebleness. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Remy turned and looked around. He was the only person in the shop though he assumed at her age she called every one child and was simply aware that someone had entered and so he came forward but hesitated. Something about this store made him nervous. He wasn’t afraid of the old woman, he sensed no malice coming from her but still something was strange. Something seemed ethereal and he felt almost as though he were being transported to another time and place. Slipping into the seat, he smiled even though he realized she probably couldn’t see him at all, which was a good thing as his eyes would probably scare her and Remy wasn’t in the habit of scaring little old ladies.

“How much for a reading Cher?” he asked quietly and the woman raised her hand letting cold bony fingers reach across to enclose his hand, her hands cold. “Poor circulation,” Remy’s mind told him as he stared at the yellowed fingers, blue veins sticking out. But still he couldn’t deny the strength in the fingers. They were far stronger than they should have been. He would have pulled away but didn’t want to scare the old woman and he wondered how anyone could leave her unprotected in a store. She was a target waiting to be robbed by some street hood.

“Ten dollars and I will tell you what you need to know,” she promised, her voice sounding resolute. 

“What I need to know,” the Cajun answered trying to keep his voice from being smug. “Is dat anyting like what I want to know?”

“Far more important,” she answered knowingly and Remy nodded thinking the woman had a good way of hooking the mark. He was curious enough to pay.

“Gambit will give you the money,” he agreed turning to look at the crystal ball but the woman continued to stare at his hand with her sightless eyes. He glanced from the ball to the cards but the woman still continued to stare down as though she had forgotten him and was napping. Remy wanted to pull his hand away but didn’t as the woman suddenly ran a finger down his palm, lightly scratching it with her nail but not breaking the skin.

“They call you ‘the white devil’ because of your eyes,” she began in a soft voice, her tone no longer shaky and ancient but strong and sure, and Remy froze knowing the woman couldn’t see his eyes and couldn’t know what she was saying. “But you are no devil, young one. What happened with the Morlocks was not your fault.” Remy shocked, yanked his hand trying to pull free but she held on tight and continued. “Others may condemn you, don’t condemn your self.” And finally, she looked up her sightless eyes boring into the Cajun’s and Remy was suddenly scared of this woman even as he was suddenly rooted to the spot by her presence. “What you need to know child, there is one among the ones you called friends who will be your lover. One who will give you all, heart and soul and will hold yours securely, but to get it you must first return to the place in the north.”

“Non,” Remy yanked again and the woman released him having finished. “Gambit no longer wants Rogue. Not goin dere.”

“The one your heart seeks, your soul mate, is not called Rogue or Marie, child, and you will find that one if you go.”

Remy glanced at the woman. “How you know dese tings old woman? Who or what are you?”

“I would think it more important to ask who or what lover awaits you, but in answer, I am the seer of dreams. It is a gift given to me by my mother and to her by her mother before. Accept what I tell you and return north. The suffering will be great, the reward greater.” She smiled showing a mouth full of gums but no teeth.

“Gambit's not goin dere,” the Cajun repeated shaking his lustrous, long cinnamon, brown hair. “Not wanted dere.” He stood, forgetting he had come in to speculate on another’s conning job, and threw money down on the table, not looking at the amount but the woman shook her head and pointed to the money seeing the amount with her sightless eyes.

“You’ve given me too much. Take back what I have not asked for and do as I tell you. Your own future hangs in the balance. If you wish happiness, this is the way to get it. Remember your heart is there.”

Remy turned, leaving the money and shaking his head. “Den Gambit’s gonna be heartless,” he answered and walked to the door wanting to get away from this strange woman.

“Wait,” she called with a smile and Remy, a hand already on the door turned, though why he obeyed he wasn’t quite sure. “I will still assist you.” She reached down and retrieved a small cloth pouch. “Take it; it will put you on the right path.” Slowly, reluctantly, Remy turned back and put out his hand, not understanding how she could see where to drop it as a small cloth bag dropped onto his palm.

“What is it? It looks like a gris-gris from back home,” he whispered, his voice melancholy with a sudden pang for his lost home.

“So it is child. Keep it with you, until the time you need it. That time will come soon.” She turned away and reached for the money with a smile. “Since you would not do it, I have put you on the path you must follow, young one. I wish you well.”

Remy turned to the door again, feeling more depressed, sliding the small pouch in his pocket. He stepped outside and then turned intent on telling the woman she knew how to read her mark, but stopped in shock. Where the storefront had been less than one minute before, a high raise building now stood, the store, the woman, they were gone and crowds of people were suddenly pushing past him, annoyed that he blocked their path. The Cajun stood there for some minutes staring at the spot and wondering what was going on but then walked away mumbling to himself, his hand reaching in and feeling the small pouch in his pocket – the only proof that he had ever spoken with the woman.

***

Victor Creed, aka Sabretooth, watched the grounds around Xavier’s mansion, sniffing the air every so often. He was here on a mission and his keen, senses told him the person he was looking for was not here. Keeping out of sight and sniffing around, over the course of the day he found Cyclops and Jean Grey mostly together, Rogue and Jubilee returning from shopping, Iceman and Angel arguing over some practical joke one or the other had played and Storm about in the attic. He didn’t find Beast, but assumed he was down in his lab. However, he wasn’t interested in any of these mutants and so he watched and listened. Sooner or later the one he was looking for would come. Sitting back in the trees, hidden by the dense foliage he waited, he could be patient. He was after prey. He was still waiting, killing off small animals for food two days later when a jeep pulled up and Wolverine got out. The Canadian, carrying a small knapsack, a cigar in his mouth, looked up at the mansion with a scowl of displeasure, taking in his surroundings before heading in. Cursing, Sabretooth slid deeper into the woods. Wolverine and only Wolverine would be able to catch his scent from this distance and would recognize it and though Creed had no qualms about fighting the Canadian that wasn’t his purpose. He had been given clear instructions and was trying to act on them.

An hour later, Wolverine emerged from the house a cigar in his mouth, and stood on the back porch looking out at the trees. Creed couldn’t make out his features but the Canadian’s body language proclaimed clearly that he was pissed off and Sabretooth smiled. He had been sitting around for two days and could use some exercise. Anyway, as his prey hadn’t turned up he figured he could get one of the mutants to tell him where he could find the person he was looking for. Wolverine would know; the mutant always knew what was going on in the mansion. 

Deliberately sliding upwind of the feral mutant he turned into the trees using the dark, dense foliage that blocked the sun as cover. He didn’t wait for Wolverine to follow, he knew the mutant would, and headed deeper into the dense woods, continuing on his march over rough ground until he reached a small clearing near a pond that sparkled with cool water. He could hear Wolverine in the distance and slid behind some trees waiting. This was the place he would take out the x-man and get his information. He was disregarding his orders by involving another x-man, but as the mutant he wanted obviously wasn’t at the mansion, Creed would have to do something to find him.

Glancing around, Sabretooth tried to think of the best way to take out Wolverine. He needed an edge; Wolverine was shorter but just as strong and fought with a ferocity and determination that few could match. Creed would never admit it, but he respected the x-man’s fighting skills and not just because he had been engaged by them. Wolverine never let anyone stop him. 

Spying a decent size branch on the ground, Creed hefted it in one hand and weighed it thinking it might be useful. Circling so his back was to the sun and he was downwind of his prey, he prepared. He would bushwhack the x-man. 

As Wolverine neared, Creed sniffed the air thoughtfully while holding tight to the large piece of a branch. He planned on smashing it into the x-man’s legs and then pouncing while Wolverine was down. He could get his answers and then see if the x-man’s healing factor could survive having his heart ripped out. With a deep breath he waited as twigs quietly snapped in front of him and then turned waiting for Wolverine. A minute later, a blur entered the clearing and Creed swung the branch but it didn’t connect with Wolverine. Logan, more than aware of his enemy and how he worked, dove into the clearing, ducking down and rolling as he entered and so he was flat on the ground as Creed’s branch swung harmlessly above his head before Wolverine jumped up claws extended.

“Hello Wolverine,” Creed sneered. “Been a while.”

“Not long enough, Creed.” Logan answered coldly as he circled, focused on the branch in the other’s hands and the feline mutant’s quick movements. “Why are you here?”

Creed smiled back. “I need some answers and you were the first x-man I got alone away from the house. The others didn’t even know I was there.” His voice sounded smug as he circled again watching Wolverine. The two were performing a deadly waltz, each moving in step and counter step as they watched for an opening.

“That so,” Wolverine snarled back and Creed nodded.

“Yeah, been here for two days, glad you finally turned up.” He dove at Logan but then backed up as Wolverine’s claws came up. “Getting tired of waiting.” Creed admitted.

“And what do you want to know, Creed. Not that I’m gonna tell ya anything.”

“I want to know where the Cajun is,” Creed answered. “Tell me and I’ll walk away. I know he’s not at the mansion.”

“Sick bastard,” Wolverine answered with a snarl, his eyes picking up more of the yellow color, “You know Gambit’s dead.” Obviously angry, Logan took a swing at Creed and the other mutant jumped back, a single claw connecting and scraping down the skin of the feline mutant’s chest, blood barely welling up before it healed. 

“We both know that’s not true,” Creed growled as he swung again at Logan barely missing him with the branch, “and I’m looking for him.”

“Go to hell,” Logan answered his eyes turning completely yellow with anger and hate as he dove straight at Creed knocking him over, his claws reaching for Sabretooth. But Creed was ready and swung the wood up, Logan’s claws slicing through wood instead of flesh as Sabretooth brought his own claws up aiming for Logan’s throat. With a snarl, he tried to connect but Logan was already moving out of reach rolling across the clearing.

Creed stood and tried to dive for Logan but Wolverine back flipped regaining his feet and pushing a claw into Sabretooth’s leg as Creed landed where moments before Logan had been on the ground. The feline mutant howled with pain and anger. Realizing Logan was entering a feral state and he wasn’t going to win against the x-man, Sabretooth jumped back again and stared at Logan. “Fine, you won’t tell me where the Cajun is, I’ll find him myself.” He turned and darted off into the woods as Wolverine stood panting and leaning on a tree watching him go with questions buzzing around in his mind.

Logan thought about following Creed and continuing the fight but he stopped, leaning against a tree, catching his breath and considering what Creed had wanted. “Why,” he asked himself, “would Creed be asking where Gambit was?” Gambit was dead, or so he had been told by the others. He had just gotten back from Japan when he got the news from Bobby. Logan had threatened to gut Bobby if this was some kind of sick joke but he could tell Iceman wasn’t joking. Bobby was pale and a little shaky as he faced an angry Wolverine and nervously shifted from one leg to another as he went on to give the details vacillating between some self righteous attitude and shame as he described the trial and subsequent abandonment. When he heard they had left the kid to die, Logan was disgusted with the bunch of them. Saying nothing he turned and went into the Cajun’s room, sitting down on Remy’s bed, and looking around, realizing he had lost more than just a teammate, perhaps someone who should have been more than just a friend. 

His eyes took in the room and the very few possessions Remy had left. The lighting was low, the blinds always drawn because of Remy’s sensitive eyes but that wouldn’t affect Logan as he glanced at the dresser. There were a few decks of cards, Logan smirked knowing the kid never went anywhere without at least one. There were a few baubles, no doubt real and valuable after all the kid was a trained thief. Prominently on display, a picture of the whole team together. But in a place of honor showing its importance and significance was what Logan knew was Remy’s most treasured possession. It was a picture of Remy standing beside an older woman and man. Logan looked over the tall, stern man with his hand on Remy’s shoulder, Remy’s beloved step father Jean Luc and the woman, his Tante Mattie. Remy had only once spoken about his home life. He and Logan had gone out drinking after a particularly difficult mission. A young girl had been killed because her eyes were the strangest shade of purple declaring her a mutant and the Cajun had taken their inability to save her very badly. Wolverine, seeing the young man’s state, (something the other x-men had been oblivious to) had decided the kid needed to blow off some steam and had dragged him out, Remy almost kicking and screaming at the assault but the thief had settled down when they entered Harry’s and a glass of bourbon was put in front of him. 

Staring out into the forest, Creed's scent dissipating, Logan could still remember the scene…

“Come on Gumbo,” Wolverine had growled as he indicated the drink after telling Harry to leave the bottle. The bartender had looked at the pair and nodded. “Take a swig and you’ll feel better.” He could tell the kid needed it and Remy glared at him, in full denial of that fact before glancing around and down at the drink. Harry’s was almost empty, music playing softly in the background, the dark lighting easy on his eyes as he sighed.

Remy again frowned at the statement but then gave in nodding, settling back more comfortably and downing the shot before looking at Logan. “Tanks, Logan,” he whispered at last, acknowledging his need more for companionship than alcohol as Logan refilled his glass from the bottle Harry had left before taking a sip of his own beer.

“Her death wasn’t your fault, Rem,” Logan admonished gently. “You didn’t hurt the girl, those people did.”

Remy nodded looking into the glass. “Wanted to stop it,” he looked up, unshed tears making his red eyes sparkle. “Tried,” he let his shoulders slump in defeat, an emotion the Cajun rarely revealed. “Wasn’t good enough,” he finished his voice flat. Looking back down he continued. “Know what kind of life dat girl had, Logan. Livin on de streets with mutant eyes. I lived like dat for a long time before Jean Luc adopted me.”

Logan glanced at the boy in surprise; Remy never spoke of his past, his closed mouth stance making some of the x-men distrust him. “Ya lived on the streets, Rem?” Wolverine found the information surprising. He watched others closely and he would not have guessed Remy was a street kid. The Cajun was too well educated and showed too much culture and refinement to be a street kid.

Remy nodded, playing with the glass, his long banks falling in front of his face as he continued. “Never knew my parents,” he admitted. “Was left in de hospital at birth, den put in an orphanage. Ran away when old enough et lived on de streets. Made money any way I could,” he admitted. “Had to do some tings I wasn’t proud of to survive. Eventually, tried to pick de pocket of a man and got caught. De man was the head of de tieves guild et he took me in and adopted me. De man put up wit a lot teachin me. Even gave me his name so Remy became Remy LeBeau.”

“It must have been hard on the streets with those eyes,” Wolverine said and watched Remy nod again.

“Most times got beaten because of des devil eyes, sometimes got worse den just a beatin, wanted to save de girl from dat.” Logan nodded, a hand reaching out to land on Remy’s tense shoulder. 

“Ya tried, Rem,” Wolverine answered as gently as he could. “It wasn’t you that did this.” Remy looked up at the x-man. 

“Know dat but it still hurts.” Logan agreed with a nod and considered the mysterious young man in front of him. Remy needed to open up to someone and let out some of what was happening to him and the older mutant decided to offer a chance. It would be up to the Cajun whether he would accept it, but it would be out there offered by a friend.

“So where in Louisianna does your father live?” Remy looked up weighing the question against his trust of Logan. He rarely gave out information about himself or his life, trust and Remy were not usually compatible, but somehow he knew he could trust the Canadian and that night, Remy told him everything: all about his life, his exile, even his work for Sinister and what happened with the Morlocks, some of the tale accompanied by tears. By the time Remy was done, Harry had closed and left the bar key with Logan and the kid was completely spent, exhausted from the emotions that had run through him and his release as he found a friend among the x-men. Logan had helped him home and a friendship was born.

…When the team told Logan of Remy's death, Logan had picked up the picture and pocketed it, not leaving it for the team to discard, and going down gave the team a piece of his mind before walking out the door. He was afraid he might gut one of them if he stayed around. He had gone off to consider the tragic events in Antarctica, but hours later Logan still couldn’t understand what had driven the x-men to abandon one of their own. No one among the x-men was in a position to condemn another. No one was that clean. Wolverine and the others had all done things they weren’t proud of. Logan’s own past was about as bloody as one could get. As a soldier, the first code was never leave a man behind and the x-men had always considered themselves soldiers in the war against mutant haters. So, how could they do this?

Dismally, he sighed, admitting at least to himself, that Gambit had meant more to him than a teammate and friend. He had always felt something for the kid and had taken to partnering with the kid more than any other. “But,” Logan continued as he considered Sabretooth’s actions, “maybe Remy survived. Creed wouldn’t think he was alive without reason.” Something in Logan that had been weighing him down seemed to lift at the idea and Logan decided he would see if Remy had survived and if he had, than Logan knew he would have to find the kid before Creed. 

Turning toward the house, feeling Remy's prized picture in his pocket, Logan made his way back. He wouldn’t tell the others what was going on. They didn’t deserve to have their conscience’s cleared. They had been judges, juries, and executioners and they needed to deal with that fact. Packing a bag, he left without a word to the others and headed for New York City. He knew most of Remy’s haunts there and would start hunting. If he didn’t find the kid in the city, he would head down south and see his father.


	2. Findings

Logan knew better than to even try and locate the thief during the day. Remy could be anywhere, any bolt hole, any hotel. Remy had the financial means to stay anywhere. The kid was a master thief and the son of the head of the thieves’ guild. The kid had incredible financial resources at his disposal should he need them. Logan might have tried to locate the kid with Cerebro but for two reasons: one much like Remy’s natural resistance to telepaths, Remy had some natural resistance to Cerebro’s locator making it much harder to find him and two Logan would have to clue the x-men into the fact that the kid might still be alive. The Canadian wasn’t prepared to do that. He wanted them to stew in their own guilt for a while, and after blowing up at them when he got the news, he could see several of them already were. Hank couldn’t look him in the eye and Ro’s face reflected her misery.

So Logan went to the apartment he kept in New York City and aired it out, opening windows to get rid of the musty, disused smell of trapped air and changing linens so the bedding was ready for use. The apartment was small, a quiet little garden apartment up in Washington Heights, out of the main thoroughfare, and out of sight, with a very dark entrance. Logan wasn’t worried about the lack of light by the door. It kept things very private and he pitied the person who would try and jump him in the dark. The apartment had one bedroom, a kitchenette, a living room and a bathroom. It was nothing to write home about, but it was paid for and available whenever the mutant needed a place away from his team while still being close. It didn’t have much by way of finery either. A large bed with clean sheets and blankets, a comfy couch for reclining on as he watched television, a sturdy coffee table in front to hold the beer, and an overstuffed leather chair with a floor lamp beside it for reading. Everything was made in muted colors so they wouldn’t offend his heightened senses.

It was one of several pieces of property he owned sprinkled throughout the country and he spent the early evening there buying some basic provisions for his stay. Turning on and filling the fridge with food and beer, Logan washed out the coffee pot and got it ready for use. Looking at it, Logan realized he was considering not returning to the mansion. Otherwise, there would be no need to complete all these provisions, but the Canadian decided he wouldn’t make any plans or commitments until he found and spoke with Remy. By the evening, Logan was finished getting the apartment habitable and set off for Remy’s usual haunts along the west side, figuring the Cajun would try and bring some normalcy to his life.

The first two nights Logan had no luck finding the Cajun though he tried all of the kid’s favorite clubs in Manhattan. Logan figured he’d give himself a week of looking for the young thief in the city, visiting the places Remy went to on a regular basis before heading down to Louisiana and finding Remy’s father. But the third night proved lucky, the Canadian spotting the cinnamon colored hair waving around on the dance floor of a small converted warehouse in Manhattan. It was only the fourth club Logan visited that night so Logan considered himself lucky or so he told himself wryly as he watched the dance floor. Leaning on the wall in the dark corner of the overly heated club, Logan crossed his arms and watched the kid dance, enjoying the sight of him. Remy was dancing with anyone and everyone around him, and he danced with a lithe grace that complimented the incredibly toned body and attracted all around. “He’s beautiful,” Logan admitted, watching him as the Cajun swayed to the music, his head thrown back, eyes closed, while the club’s lights danced across his body. On anyone else, the lights would have appeared to be just that, lights, but on Remy they became something more. They pinpointed areas of sensuous beauty and even Logan, who never got up on the dance floor; found himself wanting to slide up against the Cajun’s body as people around the thief did just that.

Logan had no background in psychology, but he still had a keen sense of people and what made them tick, and he knew enough about Remy to realize his dancing so provocatively and so indiscriminately was a release valve. The kid needed to feel wanted by someone and so he slid into the middle of the floor and danced with abandon attracting all kinds of attention, oblivious and unconcerned as to who his partner was. Remy was being driven by the beat of the music and the lustful emotions around him as several dancers, male and female pressed close. It wasn’t Remy’s normal pattern; he usually picked one or two dance partners and gave them his attention, not using his charm powers but his charming personality to attract them. This was different, there was a desperation here that didn’t match the Cajun’s usual style, and Logan thought about going to him, interrupting him, but decided to let the boy be for now. He didn’t know if Remy had brought anyone with him to the club and or planned on leaving with a partner so he would wait and watch. Instead, he would enjoy the view. He signaled a passing waiter for a drink and settled against the wall waiting and watching the Cajun.

An hour later, Remy was still on the dance floor, not focusing on anyone specific, and Logan guessed the kid had entered alone. Whether he would want to leave alone was another matter entirely but Logan figured he could approach Remy before he decided on one of a half a dozen admirers around him. He was just getting ready to advance when he saw another figure moving across the floor, pushing people out of his way and snarling as he reached for the kid. Senses coming alive, Logan growled low in his throat and started to move forward through the crowd, going slowly not to bring attention to himself.

Remy, unaware of the approach, was caught completely off guard, but to the Cajun’s credit, was in a defensive stance immediately, glowing card in his hand so fast even Logan didn’t follow the movement as he came closer. “Creed,” he whispered, even in the poor lighting of the club, his face going pale as he stared at the feline mutant before him as the burly man came up and invaded his space, ignoring the dancers who moved fast away from Remy.

“Hi kid,” the mutant snarled back. “Want to throw that. I bet you can hurt a lot of people in here, I might not mind watching that.” Remy looked at Creed and then the card before pulling back the charge and watching Creed nod his approval. “Let’s step outside Cajun otherwise a whole bunch of people are going to get hurt.”

“What do you want Creed? Gambit ’s not going wit you,” the Cajun answered, his voice strong and secure, but it was obvious to both Creed and Logan that the boy was scared and as Logan moved closer he could scent the fear. And if he could, so could Sabretooth. This was not like Remy. The kid stood up to Apocalypse without fear in the past so as Logan readied for a fight he wondered what had spooked the empath.

“Me, I don’t want anything, but the boss wants you back and I’m taking you to him,” Creed answered with a smile as he grabbed the Cajun’s wrist. “We can do this easily or not so easily. I don’t mind letting others get hurt as long as I get you back.” 

“Go to hell,” Gambit snarled, a knee sliding up to slam between Creed’s legs, making him loosen his hold on Remy’s wrist and dropping Creedm momentarily as Remy turning ran for the door at the same time pulling out his bo staff. Wolverine already prepared to pounce if needed smiled with amusement at the kid’s maneuver as people scrambled out of Gambit’s way but Logan immediately turned to follow as Sabretooth recovered and took off after the kid. 

Out on the dark street Remy turned looking to the left and right, trying to decide on a direction, knowing he had little time. After a moment’s thought, he sprang right, towards the west side, away from people. He knew his attack wouldn’t hold Creed for long and he wanted to get far away fast since the feline mutant’s sense of smell was as keen as Logan’s. 

Remy immediately turned down the street, ready to run, but came up short as he stared at the figure in front of him. He could hear Creed come up behind him with a snarl blocking any chance at retreat as he stared at a pair of red eyes gazing out of a cold metallic face, rows of sharp teeth smiling, the entire effect making him shiver as he took an involuntary step back.

“Hello Remy,” the voice was soft and velvety as Mr. Sinister moved toward the young man, a tesseract appearing behind him as he signaled Sabretooth to stay back. “I’ve come to take you home,” he continued as Remy’s cards fanned out, all glowing.

“Non,” Remy shouted and threw the cards and continued throwing cards as Essex advanced, a force shield effortlessly deflecting the explosions he couldn’t dodge as the panicking Cajun threw everything he could charge at the man until the Cajun was out of cards and Sinister stood just in front of him smiling with mockery. Spinning his bo staff, Remy turned swinging it in an arc to keep Essex away as the scientist shook his head, watching the graceful movements.

“One would think you were not happy to see me,” he tsked as he jumped out of the way of the swinging staff before grabbing it and Remy’s arm, his own closing tight around the Cajun’s wrist, forcing Remy to release his hold, the staff falling to the ground. “Come along child, or do I have to carry you?” Sinister asked as Remy turned and tried to duck away. But Sinister was ready for the evasive tactic and using his strength grabbed the young man around his slim waist aborting the escape attempt; Remy’s back coming to rest against Essex’s broader, stronger chest. “Out of cards Remy? Too bad, not that you could use them this close,” he whispered in the struggling Cajun’s ear as he started to turn towards the tesseract, a tight hold on the thief.

Remy, desperately reached in his pocket searching for anything he could use as a weapon against Sinister and felt his hand close around the only thing still there, the small cloth gris-gris. Grabbing it, planning on charging it even though he would be caught in the explosion, Remy pulled it out of his pocket, but before he could charge it, Sinister grabbed his wrist. “Now Remy enough is enough,” he said and squeezed the thief’s wrist forcing Remy to release his hold on the small bag. As a result, it opened the contents flying into Sinister’s face and eyes, the scientist screaming and releasing Remy who fell forward as a fine powdered substance hit Sinister in the face. The scientist began rubbing his eyes immediately, as Remy shoved off against him sending the scientist backward into the tesseract, Remy falling forward, his head connecting with the concrete sidewalk.

Remy heard a growl and knew Sabretooth was coming for him as he tried to look up at the approaching threat. But he couldn’t focus, he felt disoriented from the knock to his head and everything seemed to blur in and out of his vision. He squinted at the dark figure looming above him aware that Creed stood over him ready to stoop down and carry him, aware that Creed would take him to Essex, and there was nothing he could do to stop the feline mutant, but then a blur knocked Creed away from him and closing his eyes Remy knew no more.

Logan, having come down the street took only a moment to analyze the scene and was just in time to see Remy falling forward and hitting his head and Sinister falling backwards into the portal. He saw Creed turn quickly, approaching the Cajun intent on taking Remy through the portal which was fast closing. Logan immediately moved forward to protect the boy, surprising Creed with a sudden assault and slamming into him, the effect knocking Creed into the tesseract which closed just behind him. Turning back, Logan looked down at the young man, inspecting the large bump with a grimace and then lifted him, easily tossing the young man over his shoulder before scooping up the bo staff and heading for the jeep. 

***

Remy came awake with a start and sat up grabbing his head as it protested at the quick movements. Looking around he found himself in a bed but where he couldn’t guess. It didn’t look like Sinister’s rooms but that didn’t mean anything. He was sliding warily out of the bed, his head still throbbing when the bedroom door opened, soft lighting from another room spilling in. Remy immediately closed his eyes as the pain in his head exploded and the Cajun reached instinctively for something to charge but before he could grab something a hand closed gently on his wrist, hard, calloused fingers twining with his own delicate bones.

“It’s okay, Gumbo. You’re at my apartment,” Logan whispered trying to calm the empath who was holding a hand to his forehead his eyes half closed as he tried to force his body into action it wasn’t ready for. 

“Logan?” Remy peered at him, the Cajun’s voice a little shaky as his vision cleared, the blinding pain receding to a more manageable level. He watched the Canadian nod. “How did I get here?”

“I knocked Creed off ya and he fell through Sinister’s tesseract before it closed. You were out cold so I brought you here.” Remy nodded his understanding but regretted it immediately as the world tilted and he swayed unsteadily until Logan caught him, steadying him. “Easy kid, that’s a nasty bump ya took. Ya probably got a concussion.”

“Remy will be fine,” he declared but Logan noticed he wasn’t trying to pull away just yet.

“Well you’re safe here so why don’t ya sit down before ya fall down.” Remy frowned but took a seat on the end of the bed and watched Logan leave the room. The Cajun leaned down resting his elbows on his legs and his forehead on his hands, breathing slowly as the pain ebbed, slowly. When Logan reentered the room he was carrying an icepack and handed it to Remy who looked up at him quizzically.

“Why am I here Logan?” he asked.

“I told ya, I stopped Creed and then brought ya here.”

“But why were you at de club?”

“I was lookin for you, Gumbo.” Logan came and sat beside the kid. “When I heard what happened, I figured I should find ya.” He looked over the Cajun, Remy’s face pale as he held the icepack to his head.

“Porquoi?”

“I heard what happened from the others and then Creed came lookin for ya so I figured you were alive somewhere, with Creed after you.” He paused looking over Remy. “Why’s Sinister after you?” he asked.

“It’s nothing de x-men need concern demselves wit,” the answer came out rather bitterly but Logan could hear the hurt within the statement.

“Rem, if you’ve got Sinister and Creed after ya, you’re gonna need my help so why don’t ya just tell me what’s goin on.” Remy stood swaying slightly and handing the icepack back to Logan as he prepared to leave.

“Don need de x-men’s help,” he answered. “Dey made it very clear dat Gambit’s not one of dem.” Logan glanced up at the unsteady Cajun and then stood in front of him blocking his way as Remy frowned aware that Logan could stop him from leaving if he felt inclined. 

“I didn’t offer the x-men’s help, Gumbo. I offered my help.” Remy stopped, black and red eyes looking into crystal blue ones and seeing concern and maybe something more. Remy’s empathy told him there was than just concern radiating off of Logan but he refused to lower his shields and examine exactly what.

“Tanks, Logan,” he whispered hesitating, “mais dis is my problem.”

“Kid ya can’t handle them by yerself, it ain’t weak to ask fer help when yer up against them, it’s a sign of strength and good sense. You can trust me, Rem.” Remy looked at Logan unsure and bit his lower lip thoughtfully. He trusted the Canadian; the man had always kept his secrets – the proof being none of the x-men even knew about the Morlocks when the trial occurred, and he considered Logan a friend. Remy was fairly certain Logan would not have left him in Antarctica but he hated the idea of sharing what had happened after he got away and he knew he would have to. Pride warred against need as the empath considered his options uncertain how to turn or what to do.

Logan watched Remy making up his mind, deciding the kid looked really cute biting his lip. He couldn’t make Remy accept his help but he hoped the kid trusted him enough to do just that. He didn’t want to see the kid face Creed much less Sinister alone. “Rem,” he asked at last when Remy stood thinking.

In answer, Remy slowly sat back down and put the icepack back on his head, not looking at Logan. “I trust you,” he whispered as Logan joined him.

“Then tell me,” Logan answered and Remy nodded closing his eyes.

“De x-men had left me, Cher and de New Sun saved me mais, I was sick from de cold. And den,” Remy closed his eyes and continued unwilling to look at Logan as he retold what had happened…

Sinister looked up from his lab work and considered the notes in front of him with a frown. He was in the process of studying DNA cells and was trying to understand some of the more complex relationships involved in mutant physiology. In particular, he was studying the complex relationships between unique and varied mutations within the same human body and was using the cells belonging to Remy LeBeau. Remy’s unique biology had some very interesting points. The boy was an empath with charming power, had unique eye structure that gave him incredible night vision, and could excite molecules into exploding. Three unique and diverse mutations! In addition, his powers were now under control but let loose and given full reign they had potential to destroy a planet. That kind of power intrigued Nathaniel Essex. Actually, Remy LeBeau intrigued Essex. Despite his less than pure upbringing (after all he had lived on the streets and was the son of the head of the thieves’ guild) he had fallen into the same bourgeois pattern of morality as most mutants, the proof being the incident with the Morlocks. Remy, like so many others, couldn’t understand the need to remove the sub group. The boy had proved difficult to handle over that little plan and had severed his connections with Sinister and the Marauders. People like Remy and Charles Xavier couldn’t understand that the genetic gene pool needed cleansing of less desirable traits.

Again, Sinister considered his sample with a sigh. He knew he should have taken more when he controlled Remy but he hadn’t expected the boy to get away when he destroyed the Morlocks. It was a miscalculation but one that could be fixed. Tapping a long finger on the table, Sinister considered what to do. He was aware of the trial and subsequently the rejection of Gambit from the x-men. So, if he needed to get to the boy, this was an opportune time, when he wasn’t surrounded by teammates and wouldn’t have friends coming to look for him should he disappear. It would just have to be done quietly so as not to arouse attention, just in case any of the x-men still watched over him. He wouldn’t put it past Xavier to keep tabs on the thief. 

Sinister smiled, showing very white sharp teeth as he looked down at his notes. Remy had come to him originally to gain control of his powers and Sinister had helped him with that. But Remy’s abilities were definitely worth a second look. In any case, having a master thief around could be useful. It would all come down to taming the boy’s wild spirit and keeping a close eye on him, two things Sinister was more than capable of.

Lifting a phone from his desk, he punched in some numbers as he eyed and absently traced the word ‘empath’ on the page. “Hello, Victor,” Sinister smiled showing rows of sharp teeth. “I believe I am in need of your services, be here tomorrow.” There was no question ‘could you be here’ or ‘are you busy’ it was an order and the feline mutant would pay dearly if he didn’t obey. Hanging up the phone, Sinister smiled. “You are coming home, Remy,” he said to no one in particular as he again looked at his notes.

Three days later, Remy sat watching television in the quiet little hotel room. He had the heat turned up as high as he could get it, had wrapped himself in a blanket and still he felt cold. He shivered, not really watching the movie that was on; he was just keeping it on so some sound, beside his own sighs, filled the room. He didn’t know what he was going to do with his life. His love, Rogue had abandoned him, his friends the x-men had rejected him, and he was sick and weak from being left in Antarctica. He had disappointed his team and more importantly disappointed himself.

Rising from the bed, Remy moved to the small mini bar and grabbed the first small bottle his hands closed around and he opened the small bottle of scotch and downed the contents before going back to the bed and sitting back down and again staring at the television with unseeing eyes.

As he sat on the edge of the bed, he heard a light knock on the door and frowned. No one knew where he was, and more importantly, no one would care. Curiosity overtaking him, Remy made his way over to the door and opening it stared at a large broad chest before looking up into the face Victor Creed. He took an involuntary step back, going even paler than the sickly color he was sporting as he gasped at the man filling the doorway. “Hi kid,” the mutant smiled, showing pointed teeth as he stepped into the room. “Long time no see.” He looked at Remy’s shocked expression. Usually the empath bounced back from a shock quickly immediately jumping into a battle ready state, but Remy seemed to be having trouble getting up the energy and Creed knew this was not the young man’s usual state. “Cajun, you look like crap.” Creed chuckled as Remy retreated, trying not to show his panic at not even holding a card to defend himself with as Sabretooth reached behind to close the door, his eyes darting around the room before focusing on Remy.

“What do you want Creed?” Remy asked, his voice not nearly as strong as he would like as he neared the bed but Sabretooth knew what Remy was planning and moving with a speed that belied his large frame grabbed Remy yanking him close, the thief’s thin wrists held together in one of feline’s massive paws.

“Nope kid, I don’t need you charging anything. I was told to bring you quietly and that’s what I’m going to do.” Remy struggled against the muscles of the strong man holding him, feeling the too strong body pinning him close. He realized he couldn’t break free for all his desperate maneuvering as he was pulled into Creed’s chest. He could smell and feel Sabretooth’s fur as his face was pushed up against the massive mutant’s chest but he couldn’t break the hold. 

Creed knew Remy from his days with the marauders. He knew his strengths, and his weaknesses, and knew that despite the fact that he was bigger and stronger Remy was a hell of a fighter and not to be underestimated. And so he was surprised at just how weak the kid’s struggles were. Sinister had said the kid was sick and he was right. For one moment, Creed pitied the kid. He was sick, weak and returning to Essex, not a good situation for the boy but the feline pushed the thought away. It wasn’t his problem, he was here to get him and so he would.

“Sinister wants you,” he informed the young man as he produced a small syringe, ignoring the fevered panic and smell of fear that set in at the mention of Sinister and jabbed it right into Remy’s neck, pushing down the plunger. Within seconds Remy went limp and the feline mutant easily hoisted him over one shoulder. “The boss said this would act quick,” he said pocketing the syringe as he turned to the door.


	3. Remy's Flashback Continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated nc-17 for non-con sex.

Sinister looked up from his workbench, appreciating the fact that for someone as large as Sabretooth, he moved as quietly as the feline he genetically resembled, as Creed entered the room, the Cajun still unconscious over one shoulder. “Did you have any problems?” he asked as he came forward and indicated the place where he wanted Remy put down.

“No,” came the gravelly voice. “The shot knocked him right out.” Creed paused as Sinister strapped down Remy’s hands with the bed restraints. “He is sick though,” he finally added as he watched the doctor. “Didn’t have much fight in him.”

“Remy let’s things that bother him emotionally affect him physically.” Sinister shook his head in disapproval as he turned the empath’s face into the light for better examination. Essex could see the dark, almost blue, circles beneath Remy’s eyes and the doctor within him noted the boy had lost weight and was probably dehydrated as well. He glanced up at Creed as he turned retrieving an IV and some other medical instruments. “Don’t disappear; I will need you to keep an eye on him until he gets used to the fact that he is in my employ.” Creed nodded, thinking that a person forced into the employment of another without choice wasn’t really employed and that Remy had never gotten used to it last time. He wondered why Sinister would think he would get used to it this time, but he wasn’t about to say any of those thoughts aloud. “And Creed,” Sinister’s voice turned a touch more menacing. “I consider Remy extremely valuable, should something happen to him, something I don’t condone I would be extremely upset. Do I make myself clear on this point?” Again Creed nodded and turning left the room as Sinister started an IV drip into Remy’s arm and began taking his vitals.

Three hours later, Remy began to thrash about and Essex came over to stare at the young man as he opened his eyes. It was not the best wake up for Remy staring up into Sinister’s red eyes and he began to struggle, trying to get away despite the restraints until the scientist rested a hand on his chest. “All you will succeed in doing is harming yourself if you keep this up and I’ll be forced to sedate you,” he warned and was gratified to see Remy settle down, his eyes wide with fear as he looked around the lab.

“You haven’t been taking very good care of yourself, Remy,” he admonished with an exaggerated sigh. 

“What do you want?” Remy almost dreaded the answer, but had to know, as Sinister smiled indulgently; the empath always challenged his attackers when his back was up against the wall. It was one of the Cajun’s more endearing and at times annoying qualities.

“I was in need of samples from you my boy and took some while you were sleeping. Though, admittedly, I will need more and other types of samples,” Sinister smiled showing his pointed white teeth. “And since the x-men no longer have any use for you,” he watched Remy’s emotions welling up at the statement, “I decided I wouldn’t let such talent go to waste.” Remy’s eyes shot back to Sinister.

“I won’ work for you,” he swore, his voice angry. “You killed de Morlocks.”

“Yes, I did and it was one of my better contributions to society, on the whole.” He leaned down and withdrew the IV. “As for working for me,” he reached down and held Remy’s chin his own red eyes boring directly into Remy’s, “I’m not giving you a choice in the matter. You will do as you are told. And don’t think you will be getting away this time. I’m not planning any massacres, so you won’t be slipping away unnoticed.” He released Remy’s chin and turned back to his notes thoughtfully. “I’ll take one more blood sample for now, and then I’ll have Creed take you to your room.” He lifted a small band and held it up in the light, examining it before showing it to Remy.

“This is an advanced tracking device, Remy. It is calibrated for this perimeter, specifically for this level of the base. It will go off if you try and leave this level of the complex.” He reached down and locked it around the empath’s ankle with an audible click. “It works rather like the ones used by the police when people are under house arrest. In a way, you are too.” He chuckled. “Should you try to leave this level, it will give me notice and I will have Creed return you. Do I make myself clear?” Remy looked away saying nothing as Sinister inserted a needle into his arm and took some blood before he freed the empath from the restraints and watched with amusement as Remy put the examination table between them before calling Sabretooth. “And Remy,” he stated as Creed entered and stood beside the thief, a large hand on the empath’s thin shoulder. “Try not to blow anything up, else I’ll put a collar on you,” Sinister warned as Creed pulled the empath from the room.

Remy said nothing to Creed as he was led to his bedroom. There didn’t seem to be much use in talking or trying to bargain with the large mutant, Sabretooth would do as Sinister commanded. Instead, the Cajun tried to rally his strength. He would need it to get away and despite Sinister’s threats, he intended to do just that.

For the next three days Remy saw little of Sinister except on the first night. When he didn’t eat the lunch or dinner Sabretooth brought him, he was called into Sinister’s lab and the plate was put down in front of him by one of the many clones Sinister kept to serve him. “You are undernourished and under weight,” Sinister stated, not looking up from his work, “eat.”

“Non, not hungry,” Remy answered and Sinister finally looked up, his eyes scrutinizing the boy with cold appraisal. 

“You will eat or I will take steps to feed you,” he warned and watched Remy look down his bangs falling in front of his face. “I will not have you starving.” Remy looked at the food. He knew it wouldn’t taste bad, maybe not as flavorful as he liked, but not horrible. He knew it wouldn’t be poisoned. If Sinister wanted to kill him he had far quicker ways to do it, but eating the food would be submitting, and he bit his lip warring with himself over whether or not to obey. He knew Sinister would make good on his threat but the alternative, giving in to Sinister’s commands, bothered him just as much. Finally, with a shaking hand he lifted the fork and slipped some of the meat into his mouth, not even tasting it as he mechanically chewed and swallowed. Sinister smiled in response, knowing this had cost the empath. “All of it Remy,” he warned looking back at his work. And Remy sat there, in silent misery until he finished the plate of food. 

He rose to leave minutes later and Sinister once again looked at him. “I suggest you keep that food down,” he warned and considered the pale young man. “And unless you prefer eating in this lab don’t skip anymore meals.” With that he waved a hand and Remy left the lab.

Though a prisoner, Remy was allowed to wander about the lower level of the base with the exception of the lab and the control room. After all he had a tracking device and Sinister had Creed check on him every three or four hours. Obviously, the scientist didn’t think he would do much harm and for the most part Remy didn’t. But trained eyes evaluated every nook and cranny of the base looking for any weaknesses and finding a few. And the fact that Sinister hadn’t put a collar on him didn’t hurt though he realized he must be under constant video scrutiny if that was the case. Despite his egotistical and arrogant manners, Essex was no fool and wouldn’t underestimate Remy’s charging ability. So, above all us, the Cajun was careful not to show what he noticed as wandered from room to room, slowly making plans.

On the fourth morning, a change did occur. Remy was called into the lab and Creed stood their, arms crossed, watching him with a bemused expression that spoke volumes to the empath. Something bad was going to happen. 

“Good morning, Remy,” Sinister’s voice sounded a touch too cheerful and the Cajun shivered knowing whatever was going to happen, he wasn’t going to like it. “I am in need of another sample, and Victor has volunteered to help me get it. I need a sperm sample.” Remy froze, his color draining, as he looked from Sinister to Creed and back. “He feels he can arouse you and I intend to let him.” He looked at the empath as Remy took one step backwards, bumping into a clone behind him. “I know I could have you deal with the need,” he continued, “but as you have been plotting for the last three days, I thought this might be a way of reminding you of your place here.” He nodded to Creed who stepped forward with a smile, showing his fangs. 

Remy retreated immediately, his hand reaching for anything he could charge, but the clone behind him grabbed him and Creed was on him before he could break free. The feline mutant dragged him forward, holding him tight and tied his hands to ropes hanging from the ceiling as Remy struggled. “Non,” he pleaded, shaking his head in denial as Sabretooth used a claw to shred Remy’s clothes leaving him naked, shivering, and terrified as Sinister came closer peering into the young man’s eyes as a hand gently caressed his cheek.

“Not to worry, Victor won’t hurt you, and it isn’t as if you haven’t had sex with men before. We both know you have,” he smiled preparing his cup to receive the sample and nodded to the feline mutant tossing him a tube of lubricant. “I suggest you use a lot Victor, you are quite well endowed,” he smiled as the feline grunted, parting Remy’s cheeks to slip lube around and in the ring of muscle before thoroughly coating himself.

“Non, s'il vous plait,” Remy begged quietly, tears of humiliation running down his cheeks, but he was ignored as Sabretooth reached around Remy to run a claw lightly down his chest, letting the claw come to rest on his soft penis, delicately rubbing it up and down as his other hand began a gentle slide around Remy’s puckered entrance.

Pushed back against Creed’s broad chest, Remy could feel the mutant’s erection poking against him as a claw gently pushed into the Cajun, being careful not to tear the delicate tissue as he stretched Remy’s entrance. Soon two fingers were stretching him and then the fingers disappeared as Remy heard a zipper sliding down and something much larger pressed against his entrance. Remy tried to pull away but the arm around him held him tight as Creed, well lubricated, pushed into the young man. Remy cried out in pain and shock as he was penetrated and Creed smiled at the frantic cry but paused to give the boy some time to adjust to his size. It wasn’t the feline mutant’s usual style; he preferred to slam hard and fast and to hell with the partner’s reaction or pleasure, but he had bet Sinister he could arouse the thief and, in any case, Sinister would kill him if he harmed the empath. All the Marauders knew Remy was Essex’ pet, they always had.

After a short amount of time, Creed shifted and began a slow easy movement in and out as he stroked Remy in time to the movement, feeling the delicate flesh in his hand harden, but Creed was still shifting slightly and looking for Remy’s sweet spot. He knew he had it, and laughed with amusement when he heard the Cajun gasp, and continued hitting the spot as his speed increased, the only sounds: Remy’s gasps, hard breathing, grunts from Sabretooth and the sound of Creed’s skin slapping against the Cajun’s with each thrust. 

Sinister, watching the erotic display, could tell Remy was close to orgasm, the young thief had his eyes closed in humiliation, unwilling to look at Sinister or Creed as he ground his teeth to keep from crying out in pleasure as the two, obviously in sync neared release. He prepared the specimen cup as Creed’s pace moved faster and harder and finally, Sabretooth thrust one final time, pushing deep into Remy and releasing with a growl at the same time Remy’s own release came, spilling into Sinister’s cup.

“Yes, that will do nicely, for now. Thank you Creed,” he turned and prepared the sample as Sabretooth withdrew from the boy before patting him on the head.

“Thanks kid,” he stated, his tone mocking as he released Remy and watched the kid slide to the floor with a sob. Turning to Essex, Creed smiled. “You owe me ten bucks,” he said, his tone self satisfied.

“Yes, I do. Please take Remy to his room. I am sure he could use some rest after the workout he just received,” Sinister answered not looking up from his work. “And we will settle the account later.” He didn’t bother looking up as Sabretooth hoisted the young man over one shoulder and headed out the door.

Remy was mortified with what had happened but there was nothing he could do but endure Creed’s mocking smirks as he continued in his captivity for the next two days. And then on the seventh morning he was summoned to Sinister again and struggling against Creed’s hold he was forced into the lab. “Good morning, Remy,” Essex’ voice was smooth as he held up some notes. “I’ve been working on your DNA, which I will admit is very tricky, but given a bit more time I will probably be able to duplicate your kinetic and empathetic abilities. However, I do need to complete a few more experiments.” He indicated the table and Remy in desperation reached for anything he could charge, heedless of Sinister’s threats as Creed held him, grunting with effort as Remy fought, kicking at him to get free. Grabbing his wrists to keep him from charging anything, Creed growled as Sinister, without a word, prepared a syringe and injected Remy, the empath’s body relaxing as Creed eased him onto the table. Essex examined the Cajun before reaching down and removing the ankle restraint as he attached a small electrode to his ankle. “He can be a handful,” his voice reflected amusement as he glanced at a pissed off Sabretooth. “I’ll be done with him within the hour and then you can put him into his bed.” Essex placed electrodes on Remy’s wrists. “With the injection I just gave him he should sleep through most of the day so you and I can go into town and meet with my biomedical supplier. He should be quiet until we return.” He moved to his equipment as Creed crossed his arms looking down at the sleeping young man with annoyance.

Remy woke in his bedroom, feeling groggy and slightly sick, and groped for the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. It was early afternoon and all he wanted to do was go back to bed, but something tugged at his consciousness and he looked around trying to understand what. It was then he realized there was nothing on his ankle. Sinister had taken off the cuff but hadn’t put it back on. It was his best chance for getting away. Throwing more water over his face, the empath forced his body to move forward and he made his way out of the room and down the hall. Silently, he made his way into the control room and checked the video cameras, noting that the clones were about, but Sinister and Creed weren’t in the lab. 

The thief knew he had little time if he wanted to get away, but he stopped momentarily looking at the computer thoughtfully, and then began typing before moving into Sinister’s lab. Inside, he looked at Essex’ desk, and the papers around it, and reaching down grabbed the papers charging them before tossing them down. Then turning, Remy fled the lab and the complex.

End of flashback.

Looking up at Logan, Remy finished the tale, still holding the icepack to head though much of the pain had ebbed.

“But what does Sinister want now,” Logan asked and Remy sighed.

“Before I destroyed de computer and de lab, I sent a copy of all his notes to one of my accounts as insurance. He wants de notes.”

“And you,” Logan added sitting beside the Cajun, a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Rem, you need to go to the x-men for protection.”

“Non,” Remy shook his head. “Not going to dem.” Logan considered Remy’s objections, knowing he would probably have to take Remy to the mansion no matter what the kid wanted. There was no way Remy could handle Sinister and Creed without help.

“How’d ya get away from Sinister anyway? You threw somethin at him as I came over. What was it?” Logan questioned, not ready to fight with Remy over what was the most obvious next step. 

Remy glanced at Logan removing the icepack which wasn’t really cold anymore. “It was a charm an old lady gave me,” he frowned remembering the strange woman and her words. “She said I would need it and dat it would…” he stopped looking at Logan in shock.

“It would what?” Logan glanced at the kid.

“It would put me on de path I needed to follow, Cher,” he finished, not mentioning the soul mate part. Logan was a straight arrow, and even if he weren’t, the Cajun knew Logan would never want him after the confession about Creed.

“Yeah well, ya better thank her. Without that thing right now you’d be in Sinister’s lab and if ya go by her, ya need to go to the x-men.”

“Not de x-men,” Remy whispered looking away and letting his bangs hide his face as he, not so much realized, as acknowledged his feelings for Logan. The Canadian had been more than a friend since they met. 

Logan glanced at Remy trying to understand the kid. Failing, he shook his head. “Listen Rem, why don’t you get some rest? Ya gotta be tired after what happened and the sun will be up in a couple hours. We can decide what to do then.” Logan rose from the bed and forced Remy to stretch out, waiting for the kid to fall asleep, which didn’t take very long. Once his enhanced senses told him the boy was out, he went to call the x-men. He needed to speak with the professor.


	4. Return

Cyke growled as he picked up the phone, mentally swearing that whoever called better be bleeding and near death or he would help them get into that state. “Hello,” he whispered with a glance at the clock on the bedside table as Jean mumbled to him and turned over.

“Cyke,” Logan’s voice came loud and strong making the x-men leader wince.

“Wolverine do you know what time it is?” he asked and though he whispered his stressing of the words was the quiet equivalent of a shout.

“Sure 4:45,” the answer sounded a little smug to Scott. “I need to talk with the Professor. Can you get him?”

“Can’t it wait for a decent hour?” Cyke was coming awake and realized Wolverine didn’t call at all hours of the night. This had to be something important. He sat up in bed, glancing at his wife before taking the cordless phone out into the hall. He doubted he would meet any of the students at this hour of the morning, but if he did and was seen standing in the hall in his Bugs Bunny boxers, he would kill Logan.

“It’s important Scott,” Logan answered and Cyke nodded and then wondered why he did, Logan couldn’t see him. 

“Alright, give me a minute to get my robe and I’ll go get him.” He turned back to the room ignoring Logan’s chuckles.

“Still wearing cartoon boxers?” Sometimes Scott felt he could kill Logan. Slipping quietly into the room so he wouldn’t wake his wife, Scott grabbed his robe and headed down the hall, the soft carpeting quiet under his bare feet.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked as he walked, the phone held between his shoulder and cheek as he used his hands to close the belt of his robe, hiding a multitude of Bugs Bunnys, “seeing as you got me out of bed at 5:00 a.m.”

“4:50,” Logan corrected. “And don’t complain; I haven’t been to bed yet.”

“That’s your choice,” the answer was surly.

“I have a bit of a problem here,” Logan answered. “It’s a spicy problem, as in Cajun style.”

“Remy, he’s okay?” Scott couldn’t hide the relief in his voice, as he stopped, his hand gripping the phone tightly. “I thought, Rogue said…”

“He’s asleep in my bed and aside from you, Jean and the Professor, I don’t want anyone else to know about it yet.”

“Why not, why not just bring him here?” Scott could hear Logan sigh on the other end of the phone.

“The kid doesn’t want to come back,” the answer was brutal in its honesty and Scott nodded his understanding.

“Shit,” was all he could manage and Logan smiled. Scott cursing was an unheard of thing.

“Can’t blame him Scott,” Logan continued. “Think about it, he was betrayed by Rogue and abandoned by his teammates. Maybe it’s no surprise in Angel and Psyclocke’s case – they never really got along with him, but abandoned by Hank and Joseph? And none of us went back for him.”

“If I had known he was alive…” Scott started to protest.

“I know that and you know that but the kid doesn’t. Do you think he’d be welcomed if he walked in right now? Do ya think the others would open their arms and say we missed ya?”

“No,” Cyke admitted dismally. Gambit had never been one of the more popular members of the team. He had too many secrets, his history and thieving days making him less than trustworthy in the eyes of many. In fact, he had a tendency to rub most of the team the wrong way with his playful teasing and flirtations and Scott recognized that included himself but he would never wish the kid any harm. Life was much quieter at the mansion without Gambit stirring up emotions and trouble, but a hell of a lot less interesting. Scott would never admit it but he missed the trouble the Cajun caused, especially when he tortured Bobby. Gambit was the only one who took on Bobby’s practical joking and beat him at his own game. Approaching the Professor’s door he reached out to knock while thinking the problem over and deciding he wanted the kid back. “Tell him sometimes you have to face difficult situations. It is part of being an adult, Logan,” he added sagely as the team leader.

“Sometimes those difficult situations can become too much to handle. The kid’s got enough problems to deal with; Sinister and Sabretooth are after him.”

“Shit!” Scott repeated but didn’t have time to say anything else as Charles’ voice entered his mind giving him permission to enter. 

“Morning, Professor,” Scott mumbled after telling Logan to hold on as he entered Charles Xavier’s bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him and looking around. Considering that the Professor owned the mansion and it was opulent, the Professor’s bedroom by contrast was simple, bordering on austere. Large pieces of ash wood adorned the room in what could best be described as an early American style with plain straight lines and little ornamentation, the room held little distraction for the telepath.

“Good morning, Scott. What is the problem?” Xavier returned, sitting up in bed and watching his team leader standing in the doorway holding the phone.

“Logan’s on the phone,” he watched Xavier raise an eyebrow in surprise. The Canadian had lectured them all about responsibility and teaming, making his feelings and thoughts very clear and then had left just a few days ago and the x-men leader didn’t expect to hear from him for some time. “He’s found Gambit.”

“Gambit,” the Professor repeated, his face lighting up with relief as he reached for the phone that Scott extended to him. “Hello Logan, you found Gambit, is he alright?”

“Yes I found him Professor, unfortunately, so did Sinister and Sabretooth.” 

“Why would they want him?”

“I think Sinister’s trying to duplicate his empathic abilites. If he does…” 

“He can charm others into doing his bidding. I don’t want to even consider what else Remy’s empathy is capable of,” the Professor finished with a nod. “Can you bring him back here, Logan?”

“He doesn’t want to go there.”

“Can’t you convince him? You are stronger than the boy.” The Professor left the suggestion in the air to be taken any way the Canadian wanted but heard Logan sigh in response.

“Chuck, he’s been betrayed by the group and has little trust in them. If I do that, than I’m no better than Sinister betraying him and forcing him to do what I want and we’ll lose him. I will try and convince him to come back but I won’t force him.”

“Of course you are right, Logan.” The Professor paused to think for a moment. “What about the boathouse. He could stay there. He’d be on the grounds.”

“The boathouse,” Logan repeated and paused, “he might be willing. I’ll suggest it. Tell Jean and Scott to make it habitable. And Professor, I wouldn’t mention his return to the others just yet, especially since he hasn’t decided to return.”

“Yes,” Charles looked over at Scott. “We will do that. Thank you Logan.” The telepath hung up the phone and looked at his team leader.

“We are going to keep this very quiet for now Scott. Logan is going to try and convince Remy to stay at the boathouse. Do you think you can get it ready?” Scott nodded as he took his phone.

“Do you think Gambit’s abilities are that dangerous?” he asked watching the Professor who nodded.

“We’ve always focused on his explosive abilities, in part because Remy buries most of his empathetic ones, except perhaps a little of his southern charm for attraction.” Xavier smiled with amusement. “But think about it Scott, emotions are far more powerful than even explosions. What if Sinister replicated the abilities, he could charm someone into devotion or,” the Professor paused, “push despair into someone to the point of suicide.”

“You think Remy could have done that?”

“Oh yes, and probably much more, but just as he kept secrets buried, Remy kept that power buried.” Scott nodded and turned back to his room. Things around the mansion were going to get a lot more interesting.

At his apartment, Logan hung up the phone and went and checked on the Cajun, smiling as he stood in the door way and looked at the sleeping young man. Remy was stretched out on the bed, his head buried in the pillow, his reddish, brown hair fanned out across his shoulders and back as long sensitive fingers curled around the bunched bedding. Logan could just make out the toned muscles under the tight clothes and followed the contour of the thief’s body enjoying the view, deciding the only thing that would make the picture better was if the boy had no clothes on and he was beside Remy. The Canadian pushed the thought aside with a wistful sigh and considered what he had to do. He knew Remy couldn’t be by himself, not with Sabretooth and Sinister after him, but getting the Cajun to realize that might take some effort. Remy was adamant about not going to the x-men and Logan would have to find some way of convincing him to go without alienating him. Logan suspected Remy would need the few friends he had.

Going into the living room and sitting in the large leather chair, Logan tried to clear his mind, he needed to meditate and consider the arguments he would use, but every time he tried, visions of what Sabretooth had done invaded his thoughts and made his blood boil. When Remy had told him about the rape, Logan found himself hard pressed not to start growling and some part of him recognized that Sabretooth had trespassed on something he wanted to claim as his. 

Shaking his head at his own inability to concentrate, Logan turned and went into the kitchen putting up a pot of coffee and sitting by the window watching the sun come up. He was quiet and just starting to focus when he heard Remy. Frowning, he turned and entered the bedroom where the Cajun was tossing and mumbling obviously in the throes of a nightmare. 

“Rem,” Logan came near and reached out a hand to shake the boy as Remy began to whimper quietly.

“Non, don’, please,” he cried and shot up, a wild look in his eyes, not sure where he was as he turned round, his long hair flying in every direction as red gleaming eyes stared at the room not entirely sure what was going on as his fingers reached out ready to grab and charge something. Logan could see he was still not entirely awake and could smell the fear coming off the boy.

“It’s alright Rem,” Logan coaxed. “You’re safe.” Logan, moving slowly so as not to scare Remy, sat down on the bed beside the young man and then pulled the empath into his arms, feeling Remy tremble, his breathing erratic, as he settled against Logan’s body, the Cajun’s fingers curling tight into Logan’s shirt, needing to keep the Canadian close. “You’re safe,” he repeated as Remy snuggled more securely into Logan’s arms, his head coming to rest on the Canadian’s shoulder as he closed his eyes against the memories and the dream. “I got your back kid,” he whispered, letting his nostrils slide into the silky hair that framed the Cajun’s head, enjoying the feel and scent of Remy in his arms.

“Sorry for all de trouble, Logan,” Remy whispered but made no effort to move away. He felt secure in the powerful arms and realized the old woman, whoever and whatever she was, had been right. Logan should have been his soul mate and he lost the chance when Sinister found him. Tears began to slide down his cheeks and drop onto Logan’s neck and the Canadian looked at Remy in concern.

“Remy, you okay?” he asked pushing back Remy’s hair to get a look at his face. The Cajun nodded, reluctantly starting to pull away and swiping at his eyes and Logan released him.

“Oui, Cher. Jus tired, need some of dat coffee I smell.” 

“You sure you don’t want to get a little more sleep?” Remy looked at the bed, his mind going over the nightmare he had just been through and he shook his head. Rising and stretching he glanced at Logan and gave him a lopsided smile to show he was alright but Logan could see the tension right below the façade.

“Need a shower,” he answered, all too aware of Logan’s appraising glance as he looked at his clothes. “And a change of clothes.” 

“I got a shower but my clothes ain’t gonna fit ya.”

“Have to go and…” Remy stopped as Logan shook his head.

“Guaranteed wherever you were stayin is bein staked out by Creed kid.” Remy went pale at the statement, but nodded his agreement.

“Got a few bolt holes, Cher,” he answered. “Jus in case of an emergency. Can get a change of clothes from any one of them.”

“I know a place where you’d be safe and ya have plenty of clothes there.”

“Non.”

“Rem, it’s the safest place. I know you feel betrayed…”

Remy cut him off angrily. “Rogue, she tried to…” Gambit’s voice cracked and he paused gathering his thoughts and pushing down his emotions before continuing calmly, “she passed judgment on dis Cajun and da others dey went along with it.” 

“Not all of them,” Logan answered and Remy shook his head. 

“Didn’ seen none come back.”

“She told them you were dead.” Remy turned away, the bangs falling in front of his face.

“If dey knew otherwise who would come lookin for me? Besides you Cher, maybe Stormy, none of de others. To dem I am dead. I was dead before de trial.” He stopped his tirade. The last thing he wanted to do was fight with Logan.

“Cyke would, I know that for a fact.”

“Comment?” he questioned lapsing into French.

“He told me when I called him.” Logan watched Remy’s eyes narrow in response to the statement as he crossed his arms and stared at Logan

“You called dem?”

“At five o’clock this mornin,” he confirmed. “And Scott and the Professor said you should come home.”

“Non, it’s not home.”

“I have an alternative,” Logan offered, playing his trump card, and hoping Remy would take it. “The boat house, you’ll see be safe from Sinister and not in the mansion and I can keep a comfortable eye on ya. Ya could see whichever x-men ya want and get all yer clothes.” Logan could tell Remy was about to argue as he added. “Otherwise yer just gonna have to go naked kid.”

Gambit opened his mouth a sharp retort on his tongue, but closed it again with a smile at the look on Logan’s face. There was humor in it, concern and something else, something the empath wanted desperately but was afraid to reach out and take. The Cajun knew he could never have Logan as a lover, Logan deserved better than a thieving whore who could respond to a creature like Sabretooth, but part of him still wanted to be near the man. He looked into Logan’s clear blue eyes feeling a weight of depression settle on him at all he could have had and had lost in his relatively short life. Finally, he looked away. 

“D’accord,” he whispered agreeing. “Gambit will go wit you.”


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy returns to the mansion.

The ride to Westchester from Washington Heights was too short, or so Remy decided as he sat beside Logan in the jeep watching the scenery go by. He was nervous about the whole idea of returning to Graymalkin Lane and wondered how Logan had talked him into coming as he flipped cards back and forth between his nimble fingers, ignoring the passing scenery, his mind a whirl with different scenarios about his return. He could see Stormy welcoming him, maybe even Jean, but the idea of seeing Rogue again made his blood freeze. She had, after all, left him behind to die. Seeing her again was not high on his list of things to do. He doubted Angel and Psylocke would be thrilled to see him but he could live with their disdain. Rogue’s was another matter.

“Second thoughts, Cajun?” Logan asked glancing at the young man as he chewed on the end of his unlit cigar. Logan liked a cigar but not in the car. You could never get that kind of a smell out of the upholstery. 

“Oui, and thirds and fourths,” he sighed. “Don belong der, Logan, not anymore.” 

Logan glanced over at the young man, the Canadian’s enhanced senses telling him just how nervous the empath was about coming back. Remy’s body spoke volumes, despite the seat belt he couldn’t keep still, the nervous energy forcing his fingers into motion while his long legs shifted back and forth restlessly. Thinking it over, Logan could picture what Remy would look like without a seat belt. He would be all over the place and would probably end up causing an accident. 

“You must have been one hell of a hyperactive kid,” Logan observed with an affectionate smile, thinking of a small Remy terror running around and disrupting everything.

“Oui,” the Cajun agreed with a chuckle of his own in reply though it died just as suddenly as he thought of what he had lost when he was expelled from New Orleans. Logan seeing this tried to divert Remy’s attention.

“How’d ya get through school?”

“Didn go to school Wolvie,” he continued before Logan could tell him not to call him by that nickname. “Lived on de streets till I was about 10 den Jean Luc LeBeau took me in. Mon Pere didn’ want me to go to school, too old to start learning de ABCs in first grade so he hired a tutor. Went through 3 tutors before Pere made de tutors work in Pere’s study in front of him or in front of Tante Mattie. After dat couldn’ get into de same kind of trouble, not wit dem watchin, dey’d make it so Remy had to eat dinner standin cause my backside be sore if I did anythin and so dis Cajun learned to read and write. Had tutors till I was old enough to learn de business, den the tutoring advanced to college level and focused on art history, electronics, and computers.”

“Good thing ya found someone with money,” Logan pointed the cigar at Remy. “You’d look awful silly sittin in first grade learnin yer letters at that age.” Remy nodded his agreement ghosting Logan with a smile before turning back to look at the scenery, the smile disappearing as he saw signs for Salem Center. 

“Maybe I shouldn’ go to de mansion,” he voiced his concerns again as Logan turned off the main road. Remy’s stomach was starting to do flip flops as he got closer to Xavier’s.

“We talked about this kid. You are safer up here, Essex and Creed can’t get to you as easily.”

“Maybe better if dey did,” he muttered to himself quietly, staring out the side window, not surprised when Logan heard and commented in answer. 

“You know there are people up here that care about ya kid,” he put a hand on the Remy’s shoulder, pressing it lightly in support and feeling the tension all too aware that the Cajun was suffering from depression. “Stormy’s waitin.” Remy nodded thinking about the phone call he witnessed earlier. After he finally agreed to go with Logan, the Canadian had called the mansion and gotten Scott back on the phone. It was 6:00 a.m. and Logan figured after the earlier phone call the x-men leader was up for the day. Remy had insisted on standing beside Wolverine, eavesdropping on the conversation to hear if he really was welcome. With a shake of his head, muttering something about Cajun paranoia, Logan had dialed. As expected, Scott had grabbed the phone on the first ring.

“Logan,” he asked not even saying ‘hello.’ Obviously, he had been waiting for the call.

“Yeah, morning again Cyke.”

“How is Gambit, did he agree to come back?” Scott’s voice sounded anxious and Gambit wondered if he had misjudged the leader. He had always believed Scott was indifferent to his presence.

“He agreed to the boathouse,” Logan answered.

“I’m glad,” Scott breathed a sigh of relief. “The Professor is worried about Sinister getting his hands on Gambit,” he admitted, the mention of Sinister making the Cajun shudder.

“Listen, Scott, Rem’s not ready for all the team yet but can ya tell Ro and ah, get his stuff down there. He needs his clothes or we’ll be seein him run naked around the grounds.” 

Scott chuckled. “Sure, Jean and I are startin on the place as soon as we finish breakfast. What time do you think you’ll be returning?”

“We’ll be there for lunch,” Logan answered with sidelong glance at the Cajun, seeing Remy bite his lower lip as he considered backing out of the agreement.

“Good, we’ll have everything ready.”

Remy shook his head turning from the memory and looking at the Canadian. “Why would de Professor be so worried about Sinister?”

“Maybe Chuck’s worried about you?” Logan answered but even he knew there was probably more to the concern than just Remy’s welfare. Not that Chuck wouldn’t care about Remy but he picked up something about Scott’s concern. Remy smirked in response. 

“We both know ders more to it,” he whispered and Logan shrugged not having an answer.

“If there is Chuck will be there to tell us.” Remy didn’t answer; he just considered jumping out of the car and running but decided against it. Logan could track him with his sense of smell.

“Mon ami,” he whispered at last his eyes falling to his hands unwilling to look at Logan. “De empathy, it picks up when de others disapprove of dis thief, it always has. It was bad at de trial, it will be bad here.” Remy rubbed his hands as his body felt cold. He always seemed to be cold since Antarctica. “Know you don disapprove of Remy, never have, can feel de friendship and concern mais some of de others, dey never liked Remy and it will be worse now.”

Logan glanced over at the Cajun wondering if Remy ever picked up more than his friendship and concern. Logan would hate to think Remy knew how much he wanted him. It would make things uncomfortable and would be a stress for the kid. “Rem, have ya ever done anything with that empathy? I don’t mean yer charm, I mean emotional controls?”

“Non, wouldn’t be right. Try to keep it locked up tight. Don let much out or in.”

“But you just said you feel disapproval and friendship.”

“Oui, friendship and concern, dey filter in. So does anger and hate mais I try to keep all de emotions out, especially lust and desire. Growin on de streets had to learn to keep dem out or go crazy. Have strong shields for dat.” Remy seemed to think this over for a few minutes and then added, “It’s worse when I don have anyone around. Need some emotions to interact with de empathy even if I don pay attention to it.”

“And if you don’t?” Logan asked.

“Feel empty,” Remy admitted and Logan considered this thoughtfully.

“Is that why you go dancing,” Logan didn’t add that the Cajun did it every time he broke up with Rogue not wanting to bring up the southern belle, “to feel emotions around you and keep away depression?” Remy nodded.

“Know it’s non right but de strangers don know I can feel de emotions and den I don feel so empty.” Logan nodded his understanding realizing just how difficult empathy could be - always having to keep your own emotions in check while fighting to keep out others. It was just as difficult a power as telepathy, perhaps even worse since emotions were such a primal part of everyone.

“Well kid, I’ll be around for ya,” Logan gave Remy a reassuring smile as he turned down the lane and used a key card to open the gates of the school. Remy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, not responding as the car turned up the lane though it didn’t turn into the garage but traveled down to the boathouse. “Ready?” Logan asked and Remy shook his head no even as he emerged from the car and headed for the cozy structure.

The door wasn’t locked and Logan threw it open pushing Remy in ahead of him. Inside, a welcoming fire burned in the living room hearth dispersing the dampness of the unused cottage as Jean finished arranging cushions and pillows around the room. Looking over at Remy with a smile, Jean straightened and walked over hugging the young man. “Welcome home, Remy,” she said softly before calling Scott and Ro, Scott coming in from the kitchen and Ro running down from where she was working upstairs.

Scott reaching the young man slapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Welcome back Gambit,” he offered glancing at Logan as he added, “the Professor will be here after lunch to talk with you. But first I’m fixing us all some food.” He would have continued but a streak of white hair pushed past him as Ro came rushing into the room before barreling right into the empath’s arms.

“Brother,” she whispered hugging him tight, “I thought I’d lost you.” Remy arms closed around Ro’s body as she allowed a few tears to fall down her face. Scott glancing over the scene looked at Logan.

“While these three get reacquainted why don’t you help me get lunch ready?” Scott asked Logan as Remy glanced over, aware that the conversation they were about to have was one he should be privy to, but he couldn’t extricate himself from the arms of the weather witch who was holding him tight and crying in relief. Remy looked to Jean for help but the woman turned and began adjusting the pillows. She wasn’t about to let Remy get free of Ro aware that the woman needed to hold the young man.

Logan nodded following Scott into the kitchen and leaning on the counter as the x-men leader began piling lunch meat onto a plate. “What’s up Cyke?”

Scott glanced over. “The Professor thinks Sinister was trying to duplicate Remy’s empathic abilities.”

“And?” Logan questioned.

“And it seems Remy buries a lot of those abilities.” He placed some sliced tomatoes on a plate and some lettuce. “The Professor thinks the abilities can be deadly.”

“You think the kid knows that?”

“No,” Scott answered. “But that puts us in a rather difficult position. If Sinister gets his hands on Gambit we’ve got a problem. We need Remy to stay here.”

“That might be a problem,” Logan answered, “considering at least half of the team left him to die in Antarctica.”

“Not half,” Scott answered quietly, “just Rogue. She told everyone Remy was dead. But you are right, some of the team would not be happy to see him back.” Logan nodded as Scott carried the plates to the table and pulled out two bottles of champagne. At Wolverine’s surprised look he shrugged. “Jean’s idea, she figured we should celebrate his return.”

“The Professor has to tell Remy,” Logan answered and Scott nodded.

“He’s going to join us after lunch.” He looked off thoughtfully before turning back to Wolverine. “This is going to be hard on him. Most of the others are unhappy over what happened with the Morlocks.” Logan nodded his agreement with a grimace, thinking Remy was already depressed, but changed his posture and expression as Jean, Remy and Ro entered.

“Bout time you three got here,” he grouched. “Could starve a person.” Remy glanced over at Logan wondering what he and Scott had been discussing but he smiled in response and took a seat as Jean popped open the bottle and handed out glasses for toasting.

The lunch was leisurely, fun even, and Remy enjoyed it, but he could feel an anxious undercurrent among the team and he wondered what was going on as Jean and Scott told him about the latest doings of the team. Ro, seated next to Remy, kept one hand on his as if she were afraid she might lose him if she let go but the small party was on the surface light and easy as they sipped the bubbly. 

Remy could drink a bottle of bourbon and not get drunk but champagne usually made him a bit tipsy and after two glasses he was really relaxing when someone knocked at the door. “That would be the Professor,” Scott informed him and left the table as Remy straightened with a nervous smile. 

Minutes later Charles Xavier entered the room, greeting Remy even as he declined the food and drink and came to sit with the small group. “How have you been Remy?” he asked looking over the young mutant speculatively.

“Fine Professeur, merci,” he watched the older mutant cautiously.

“We are glad you are back,” the Professor considered the young man. “What happened was a mistake on many levels and you are very welcome here.” 

“Merci,” Remy repeated though he suspected it would never be that easy to get acceptance back.

“Logan tells me you were being chased by Sinister and Sabretooth.” Remy nodded. “Do you know why?”

“Sinister said he needed samples,” Remy didn’t add that he was being recruited as a thief.

“Did he get them?” The Professor asked with concern.

“Oui he got dem. Mais, I destroyed dem before I left.” He noticed several of the x-men smile with approval as the Professor sat back thoughtfully. “Didn’ want him to give him anyting.”

“So, he had you as a prisoner and you escaped. Remy did he say why he wanted samples?”

“Was trying to duplicate my abilities.”

“Did he succeed?” 

Remy shook his head no. “Said my DNA was tricky.”

“Did he say why he was trying to duplicate your DNA?” The Professor continued what was fast becoming an interrogation. Remy shook his head no and the Professor considered the information with a frown before considering the men and women present. “Ladies and Gentlemen could you excuse us. I would like to speak with Remy in private.” Remy’s eyes widened in alarm, the Professor and Logan realizing the request upset the empath as Remy looked over at Wolverine pleadingly. Logan seeing the look smiled in encouragement as Ro, Jean and Scott rose from the table, Ro kissing the top of Remy’s head and promising to see him later as Scott and Jean nodded agreement. The three turned toward the door but stopped seeing Logan still sitting at the table.

“Chuck, I think Rem would prefer if I stayed,” he stated and watched the empath give him a grateful look.

The Professor glanced at Remy. He had always known the two were good friends but he was surprised by this request. It seemed the empath was relying on Logan for support something as far as he knew Remy had never done with anyone before. “Well,” he told himself, “it’s not such a big surprise considering how much the boy has been through.” Out loud he said, “Of course, if Remy doesn’t mind,” and watched Remy nod his agreement. Turning the others left and Logan and Remy both turned their full attention on the Professor.

Charles Xavier waited until the others had gone all the while considering Remy. He could see the telltale signs of frayed nerves in the body movement as the empath looked at him expectantly. “Remy,” he began, “I need you to be perfectly honest. Do you know why Sinister would want to duplicate your empathic powers? Did he give you any indication of his plans?”

“Non.”

“He didn’t say anything?” Remy shook his head no and the Professor sighed. “Can you describe your empathic powers? In all the time you have been with the x-men you never have.” The Cajun looked away and shrugged his eyes on the table, obviously uncomfortable with the subject.

“Can feel others emotions. Can tell if dey are friends or enemies by the feelings they give off. And de charm,” he mumbled and Logan smiled his enhanced hearing picking up every word as the Professor frowned.

“What was that Remy?” the Professor asked with his less than enhanced hearing.

Remy cleared his throat, color entering his cheeks. “De charm, it makes others want Remy.”

“Sexually?”

“Oui.” 

The Professor nodded watching the Cajun closely. “Of course, you’ve learned to control the empathy. I can attest first hand to the strength of the shields you have erected. But Remy, have you ever tried to make others feel something they didn’t feel?” Remy’s eyes opened wide in surprise but he shook his head no. “Do you think you could use your empathy to make someone feel happy for example?”

“Non,” Remy answered looking away his face going white. “Can’ do it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” the Professor whispered as Logan placed a supportive hand on Remy’s arm feeling the tension coiling within the empath, both men aware the Cajun was scared. Logan could smell fear radiating off the empath, the Professor could read the fear in the body language. This was a subject the empath did not want to discuss. 

Remy didn’t answer but he didn’t have to, Logan and Xavier both knew the truth and looked at each other, Logan nodding. The Cajun was capable of manipulating emotions and buried the knowledge and ability. “I think I understand what Sinister is after,” the Professor continued. Remy looked up at the older man, his red eyes haunted and Xavier realized the young thief knew what Sinister wanted as well. “And we are going to have to make sure he doesn’t get it,” Xavier concluded with a smile. “Remy, it would be in your best interest to explore what you can do with your abilities. They are part of you.”

“Remy explored enough,” the thief answered with a finality that indicated this line of inquiry was over. He didn’t mind exploring his abilities to blow things up, he didn’t mind exploring his charm but the men were discussing moving into a realm Remy believed was wrong. Remy was not the most moral of creatures but he believed there were areas that no one entered and mentally manipulating emotions was such an area.

“Perhaps when you are ready,” the Professor concluded, leaving the option open before changing the subject. He wasn’t about to push Remy, the boy was more than a little upset by the events that had surrounded him recently and Xavier didn’t want the Cajun to shut him out. “I am sure you must be worn out so I’ll go back to the house. Should you want or need anything don’t hesitate to ask.” The Professor nodded to Logan and turned to go as Remy stood, a shaking hand reaching for the plates. Wolverine caught the hand and shook his head.

“You go and sit down. Relax a little. I’ll clean up.” He smiled at the young man as Remy looked at him. Remy had yet to erect the carefree mask he usually wore for the team and Logan could easily see the concern in his beautiful face. “Go on, I’ll join you in a few. I’ll bring a couple of beers.” Not waiting for a reply Logan grabbed up the dishes and headed for the kitchen.

In the living room, Remy wandered around the room looking at the furniture and few trinkets left by others who had used the boathouse as a sanctum. In his mind, he kept replaying the conversation with the Professor. Had he told too much of what he was capable of? Yes, he was sure he had. The Professor and Logan now knew just what kind of monster he could be. Remy wasn’t concerned about the Canadian. He trusted Logan but having the Professor know about the empathy and how he restricted it, worried him. He had been so careful to keep it locked away from reach. He was still pondering this when a hand landed on his shoulder and he spun, a card in hand, to face Wolverine.

“Sorry didn’t mean to scare ya,” Wolverine walked in and looked at the young man. “You okay?” Remy nodded taking the beer Logan held out to him. 

“Jus preoccupied,” Remy smiled and took a seat, watching as Logan moved over to the fireplace and began stacking kindling on the grate to relight the fire. As Logan worked laying the foundations for a fire he considered what the Professor had said, needing to talk to the empath about it.

“Rem, I ain’t one to preach but Chuck is right. You should know just what yer capable of.” Remy sighed and looked down into the beer his bangs falling in front of his face to hide his eyes.

“Don tink it’s right, Logan, messin with feelins,” Remy admitted quietly. “Hid it away very young. It non easy wonderin if someone likes you because you made dem. You never know if dey a real friend. Me, never had many friends, the few dis Cajun has, he knows dey real.” Logan nodded his understanding as he reached for some wood.

“I guess it couldn’t be easy fer ya.” Remy shrugged in answer but felt compelled to continue something in him needing a compassionate ear.

“Non, between de empathy and de charm Remy always needed to be careful around people. And…” he stopped embarrassed to continue and Logan looked over at him.

“And what?”

Remy shrugged. “Hated dat people were attracted to Remy because of his looks but didn’ like him because of his personality.” 

Logan paused considering the words, hearing the hurt in them. He had never thought about it but he realized Remy was right. It couldn’t be easy having others be attracted to you for your looks but then discard you because you weren’t the type of person they wanted. No wonder the kid kept his relationships so shallow.

“That couldn’t be easy,” Logan agreed closing the screen of the fireplace and ending the conversation just as abruptly. 

A few minutes later, Remy inched close to the heat of the flames and sighed in contentment as he was bathed in warmth. Logan stood and brushed off his fingers, his eyes moving over the Cajun. Remy was breathtaking in the glow coming from the fireplace, his exotic red eyes dancing with the light of flames while his cinnamon colored hair reflected like spun gold in the fire’s light. Logan found himself attracted to the young man, his body heating and decided it was time to head up to the main house and maybe get a cold shower.

“Listen, Rem. I’m gonna go on up to the mansion. My cell phone is on if ya need to reach me in private and I’ll come back down later to check on ya.” Remy turned and nodded.

“Tanks, Logan,” he smiled. “For everyting.” The Canadian nodded and left.

At the door to the main house, Jubilee was just emerging followed by Bobby. “Hey Logan welcome back, who’s in the guest house?” she asked seeing the smoke rising from the chimney and the direction Logan was coming from.

“A private guest of the Professor’s, so stay away,” he gently knocked the tip of the girl’s nose with a finger before moving passed her with a nod to Bobby.

“Who do you think it is?” Jubilee asked as soon as Logan was gone. 

“Don’t know,” Bobby shrugged, “but Logan said stay away.”

“And you always do what Logan says?” Jubilee challenged turning and staring at the handsome man behind her. 

Thinking about the man’s claws, Bobby gave a resigned sigh. Logan might not kill Jubilee for not following orders but Bobby knew he was another matter. “Ah well, I don’t…” He was caught. He couldn’t admit he was scared of the feral mutant.

“Come on, Bobby we’ll just look in the window,” she led the way quietly to the boathouse. 

Within the hour, everyone in the mansion knew Remy was staying in the boathouse.

Remy unaware of the word passing through the house was surprised, his concentration on the fire broken, by a knock at the door and opened it only to have a fist connect with his jaw. “You shouldn’t have come home sugah,” was the last thing he heard as he flew into a wall with bone jarring force.


	6. Encounters

Logan looked around his room as he gathered some things to take down to the boathouse. He was planning on spending a lot of time there, he had been even before Remy’s admission about empathy and loneliness and he wanted to be comfortable. So, he packed the books he was currently reading, a whole bunch of cigars, and a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue he had saved. On many an occasion he and the Cajun had shared a bottle sitting on the back porch shooting the breeze or playing poker.

He was looking forward to spending some time with Remy, he liked Remy, well if he were honest with himself he more than liked Remy but he wouldn’t tell that to the kid. The last thing the empath needed was an old man pawing at him. But he would enjoy watching him and being with him and he loved the fact that he felt the kid needed him.

Tossing the items into a small bag, he turned surveying the room and then just for good measure tossed in some clothes and toiletries. He wasn’t sure Remy would want him there at night but there was no harm in carrying a few items just in case. Shouldering the bag, Logan couldn’t help but smile at the idea of taking care of the Cajun as he headed down the stairs and into the hall just as Henry McCoy came up carrying a medical bag.

“Greetings friend Logan,” he saluted cheerfully as the Canadian eyed the bag with some interest. 

“Someone sick Hank?”

“Sick, no, or at least I hope not. I just heard from Jubilee that Remy has returned and I thought I should check on the boy considering his recent…” Logan cut him off.

“Jubilee told you?” Logan asked his voice dropping as a touch of panic set in.

“Yes, she came down to my office and…” 

Logan was out the door before Hank finished, racing down the path to the boathouse. His reasoning: if Hank knew Remy was back and Hank lived like a mole in the lab than everyone knew and Remy was alone down there. “Damn it!” he cursed as he ran down the path. He knew Jubilee was the biggest gossip in the house. He should have guessed something like this would happen.

Logan reached the boathouse, Hank right behind him and stared through the open door at the room. Inside, Rogue stood over Remy her sturdy legs on either side of his body as she bent down sneering, her hand twisting the collar of his shirt, semi strangling him as Remy lay on the floor by the wall. The empath was staring up at the young woman in shock, his body limp, not even trying to fight as he looked at his one time lover, his eyes shining with emotional hurt and unshed tears. “Why did you come back?” she screamed in his face shaking him like a rag doll, her gloved hand tightening on the collar as she practically lifted and dropped him back down to the floor, the empath making no effort to fight, his hand reaching out to touch her before dropping. It was obvious that Remy couldn’t answer even if he wanted too, the collar was twisted tight, digging into his skin, and strangling him. Reaching with her other hand, she smacked Remy’s face, trying to get some response from the young man, the sound echoing sharply in the room as the empath’s head snapped sideways, blood beading up in the corner of his mouth. And then she heard the sound of Logan releasing his claws and froze realizing others were watching her. Dropping the Cajun with a hiss, she tried to compose herself and present a better image before turning and staring at Logan and Hank all too aware of what they had just seen.

Looking into their faces and seeing the shock in Hank’s face and revulsion in Logan’s, she quickly adopted the persona that got her the furthest with the x-men and screwed her face into a semblance of hurt. “Why did you bring him back? Was it to hurt me? How could you do this to me?” she demanded, ignoring the claws. She started to cry but Logan shook his head.

“Save the tears girl, I ain’t buyin them.” He moved forward his eyes trained on Rogue, as Hank pushed passed to reach the Cajun. “Yer not that good an actress.” Rogue watched him for a moment and then cursed softly straightening.

“Fine,” she answered her voice cold. “But you shouldn’t have brought him back here. He doesn’t belong here. Things were better without him.”

“How can you say that?” Logan watched her, careful not to get too close or to retract his claws as his instincts declared her an enemy. “He loved you.”

“He never loved me,” Rogue spat back, hatred and anger evident in the tone. “I knew it the minute we kissed. He loved some ideal of what happiness and marriage should be. That’s not the same thing as loving me.” 

Logan looked at her in shock as he realized just what motivated Rogue’s death sentence in Antarctica. “Get out,” his voice growled low and menacing as he moved to the side so she could pass, pulling in his claws a bit but not all the way. “And don’t come back down here. Next time ya touch him, you’ll answer to me.” 

“You’re going to protect him,” she laughed coldly, “with half the team out to get him? Good luck.” Turning she flew passed Wolverine and headed away as Hank turned and helped Remy up, looking over the younger man’s head at Logan and shaking his head at the turn of events, concern evident in his eyes. 

Remy stood silent watching the retreating figure his empathy practically choking him with the hatred she pressed into him as her words echoed in his ears. There was some truth in what she had said, he wanted her, cared about her, but loved her? He wasn’t sure if he had but he never wanted to hurt her. Trying to lock away the feelings he continued to gaze out long after Rogue was gone, fighting to hold back tears. “Knew Gambit shouldn’t come back,” he whispered his voice reflecting how broken he felt, Hank and Logan’s enhanced senses hearing him clearly as Hank turned back to examine the young man and Logan closed and locked the door.

“Let me see you, Remy,” Hank began, reaching for the Cajun’s collar but Remy pulled away as Logan retracting his claws came over an arm going around the empath’s shoulders, holding him still.

“Remy’s fine,” he told them trying unsuccessfully to pull free of the two mutants holding him while wiping at the blood on his mouth and wincing as his hand came in contact with his jaw. He was desperately trying to bury his feelings before he lost it in front of the two men. Hank aware the injuries were not life threatening and just how upset the Cajun was, decided Remy needed a little time to pull himself together before facing a medical examination. Turning to Logan he indicated the medical bag. 

“I’m going to set up for his medical exam upstairs. Why don’t you bring him up when he is ready?” Logan nodded his understanding and agreement and gave the doctor a small smile as he watched the blue mutant pick up the medical bag before bounding up the stairs. Turning back and still keeping the mutant close he pushed Remy’s hair back from his face trying to ignore how soft it felt and looked at the Cajun with concern

“You okay kid?” he asked softly and Remy nodded, but Logan could see the tears in the boy’s eyes and feel the tension in the strong body, so tantalizingly close to his own. Pulling him into a tight embrace, Logan let his arms close around the Cajun trying to ignore how much he enjoyed it and felt the boy go rigid in his arms, fighting the emotional upheaval that finally broke free of his control and surfaced at the contact. And then, Remy gave in to the turmoil and buried his head against Logan’s neck sobbing quietly, his body trembling. 

Logan didn’t try to stop the tears, he knew they were important. Remy needed to get the anger and hurt out and so he rubbed the boy’s back, just holding him so the boy would know he cared. Wolverine’s senses were on overload at having Remy so close but he clamped down on them knowing Remy needed comfort, not sex. After a few minutes Remy straightened, pulling free and wiping self consciously at his eyes. “Sorry Logan,” he whispered in a hoarse voice, embarrassed by the scene. 

“Nothin to be sorry about, Rem. She’s the one who should be apologizin.” Remy didn’t answer and Logan nodded to the stairs. “Hank wants to get a look at ya and I think you should let him.”

“Non, Gambit is fine.”

“Rem, he won’t take no for an answer and he knows ya well enough to ignore anything ya say, so come on.” 

Remy looked at Logan. He could feel the strong emotions emanating from Wolverine and his mind automatically catalogued the caring and protectiveness, basking in its warmth and needing it more than he wanted to admit. Logan was a friend, a rare commodity in Remy’s life and one of two reasons why he came back and planned on enduring the hostility he knew he would feel. The other reason was Ro but he hadn’t been ready for the hatred and venom he had just endured.

“Don’ need a doctor, Cher,” he whispered for form’s sake but gave a small sigh of resignation as Logan’s hand tightened on his arm turning him towards the stairs, Wolverine keeping a tight hold on the empath to keep him from retreating as they headed upstairs.

In the bedroom, Hank had laid out the medical instruments and waited knowing Wolverine would get the young man to the exam. Remy was infamously bad when it came to doctors and exams and it usually fell to Logan to get the boy down to the lab when needed after a mission otherwise, the empath would be more inclined to bleed to death than seek help. After hearing of Remy’s involvement with Sinister he could guess why the Cajun had a phobia and he shuddered thinking of what might have been done to him. He doubted Remy would ever be willing or able to tell him the cause but he hoped someday the empath would open up and tell Logan or Ro. The doctor was sure Remy needed a confident and a protector. Perhaps because of his empathy or just as likely because of his tragic background the boy needed a defender, not physically the kid could topple a house with his cards and could fight like hell, but emotionally and Logan and Ro were the only viable candidates. Even before the break up, Hank had known Rogue would not be able to fulfill that role. She was too unstable to support Remy emotionally. 

None of these thoughts reflected in his face as he turned and smiled at Remy as Logan herded him into the room. Remy looked better, Hank could see it and he could see the signs of tears. “Good,” he said out loud, apparently referring to the empath’s arrival but in actuality referring to the fact that Logan was taking on the supportive role Remy most needed and the young man wasn’t burying his emotions. “I am glad you were able to convince our young Acadian to join us.” The blue mutant indicated a seat on the edge of the bed. “If you will excuse us, Logan…”

“Can’ he stay?” Remy asked his voice low and unsure and Hank turned to look at the empath, deciding the emotional upheavals were too much for the boy and wondering how he would get through the next couple of weeks with the kind of negativity the team would expose him to. Hank made a mental note to speak with Charles about supporting the young man.

“Of course, if you wish, Remy.” He nodded to Logan who moved to the side of the bed near the Cajun, looking very much like a bodyguard with his burly arms crossed.

“He took a nasty bump on the head this morning, Blue,” Logan informed him as Remy snorted disdainfully.

“Was nothing,” Remy protested.

“Out cold for an hour,” Logan answered as the doctor gently probed the Cajun’s head, hearing the sharp intake of breath as he touched a lump the size of an egg.

“Any nausea, dizziness, disorientation?” Hank asked Logan, not Remy. He knew he wouldn’t get an honest answer from the Cajun even as Remy started to protest. 

“Who is de patient here?” Remy complained as both Hank and Logan ignored him.

“Not that I saw,” Logan answered. “He’s been okay since waking.” Hank nodded as he took out a small pen light.

“Remy, I’m going to shine this in your eyes,” he warned knowing how sensitive they were to light before continuing. “Has he been tired?” the doctor continued, moving from Remy’s eyes to the jaw and grimacing as he saw the swelling where Rogue’s fist connected with his face and thinking he should have brought a few icepacks.

“No, wound up a bit but that’s to be expected.” Hank nodded gently opening the collar of Remy’s shirt and looking at the red marks where Rogue’s tight hold had been strangling him. Hank continued unbuttoning the shirt, even as Remy tried to keep it closed, signaling both men that something more was wrong.

“Remy I need to remove your shirt,” Hank gently pulled the empath’s fingers from the material and the Cajun released his hold, though both men realized he was reluctant to do so. Pulling off the shirt, Hank noted the weight loss even as he grabbed his stethoscope, listening to Remy’s heart before moving behind him. Stopping dead, Hank looked over Remy’s back and then signaled Logan to look as well. There were large scratches on the empath’s back, all a few days old, all healing, but there was no doubt they were made by claws.

“Sabretooth,” Logan whispered softly behind Remy as Hank nodded obviously displeased, before continuing his examination, Remy making no comment though he knew what they would see on his back.

When Hank finished, he looked down at the young man with a scowl. “How much weight have you lost, Remy and don’t lie because I will be putting you on the bathroom scale.” Remy shrugged looking down not wanting to see the doctor’s response.

“Fifteen pounds,” he answered knowing as of now it was probably twenty and realizing it had been more before Sinister got him. Sinister had been pushing high calorie and nutritious foods into him regularly for six days before he escaped. Hank sighed and looked at Logan.

“I would say closer to twenty,” he informed Logan as he disappeared, returning moments later with a scale and indicating Remy should step on, as two sets of arms grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet. Ignoring the scowls, Remy stood on the scale and looked at the numbers willing them to go passed the 155 mark as they settled on 152. Hank wrote the number down on his clipboard. “Logan I need him to gain some weight,” he informed the Canadian who nodded his agreement. “I’m putting you in charge of his eating,” he continued lifting a syringe. “I don’t doubt he will prove anemic and if he does I’ll send some vitamins,” he continued. “I’ll know when I analyze the blood work.” Both men saw Remy go pale at the sight of the needle, taking an involuntary step back. Logan scenting the fear stepped behind him, gently closing an arm around him as he sat him down and then moved to sit beside him.

“It’s only Blue, Rem,” he whispered softly in his ear. “Close your eyes and you won’t even notice.” Remy nodded turning into the Canadian’s embrace as Logan caught the back of the Cajun’s head and pushed it against his neck so he wouldn’t have to see the doctor work, his hand running through the silky tresses. Hank finished quickly, drawing the blood as the empath waited, not moving, just enjoying the feel of being held and cared for by Logan, his body relaxing in the embrace as his senses took in the scent and feel of the man holding him. Remy had always been attracted to Logan. The Canadian was everything the Cajun was not: strong, calm, sure, earthy. But it took the old woman’s gris-gris to tell Remy he should have been with this man and now it was too late. Pushing the thought away for later when he was alone he let his mind go blank. He could think about his losses when he was alone and he would be once Logan went up to the mansion. 

“It’s over Remy, but keep still while I put some cream on your back,” Hank reached down and ran a hand over the scratches on the boy’s back before pulling out some cream and dabbing some on the large scratches. “Logan, I don’t know if Remy would mind, but I really think you should stay here with him.” The Canadian nodded. He had wanted to and Hank had just given him the perfect excuse.

“Is that okay with you kid?” Logan asked and Remy nodded reluctantly pulling away from the older mutant.

“Oui, Logan’s welcome,” Remy couldn’t help the relief from echoing in his voice as he answered. He had wanted Wolverine to stay with him but had been afraid to ask. He tried to smile as Hank stared at him with what Remy dubbed his ‘doctor’s face.’ 

“You are going to take it easy; Logan will keep an eye on you to make sure you do. If there is any dizziness or nausea I need to know right away, and you are going to eat young man, unless you want to spend some time in my lab.” Remy shook his head no. “Good, we understand one another.” He looked at the Canadian. “No exercise for a few days and plenty of food.” Logan nodded. “I’ll probably send some vitamins down this afternoon and I’ll see if he needs anything else.” Hank hesitated. “Remy, do you need something to help you sleep?”

“Non.” Hank considered the statement and glanced at Logan. 

“I’ll leave a few pills with Logan in case you change your mind.” He packed up and then unexpectedly pulled Remy up into his arms, holding him and hugging him, the empath feeling the concern and caring coming in waves off of the doctor. “I’m so glad you are back, Monsieur LeBeau and I know I’m not alone in feeling this.”

Remy smiled relaxing in the larger mutants arms, Hank’s body dwarfing his own as Logan, watching smiled his relief though some inner part of him felt a pang of annoyance seeing another holding something that in the back of his mind he was already claiming. Looking over Remy’s head Hank continued, “Put some ice on his jaw. I’ll speak with you later this afternoon.” He released Remy turning to leave, Logan walking him down the stairs as Remy headed for the shower and a change of clothes. “Keep an eye on him, Logan. He’s going to need a friend.”

“Will do, Blue. I know Ro was planning on coming back, have her bring some food down.”

“Of course,” Hank turned to leave but then turned back. “If he needs a sedative, the ones I am giving you are mild but should do the trick with his metabolism. Take care of him Logan; emotionally he’s not as strong as he pretends to be.”

“I know that Blue, and thanks.” Hank nodded walking away as Logan closed the door. 

Outside, Hank McCoy shook his head in dismay as he walked down the path. Distracted, he walked slowly thinking about Remy. He couldn’t imagine what Remy’s state must have been when he left Antarctica considering the nerves and weight loss still apparent but he felt he had some responsibility for it and felt a great deal of guilt about leaving the boy. The doctor was so caught up in his thoughts that he literally bumped into Warren as he came close to the house. Looking up from his pondering he smiled at the x-man but the smile died on his lips as he looked at Angel’s angry countenance. 

“Is the Cajun traitor really down in the boathouse?” he asked seeing where Hank had come from. Beast glanced down at the boathouse and back at the winged mutant. He wasn’t about to let Warren go down there. First, after Rogue’s little visit Remy couldn’t handle another emotional attack, second, where Logan might be inclined to go easy on a girl (something Hank wasn’t sure of) he would without a doubt maim or kill Warren. Thinking over the situation, Hank McCoy nodded, even as his arm circled Angel and forcefully pulled him towards the house, a smile hidden from view as he bounded up the stairs practically carrying the winged mutant.

“Yes, and it was very intelligent of you to decide to meet about it. I should have thought of it myself. You locate the x-men and we can meet in the war room. This is a matter for all of us,” he agreed, ignoring Warren’s attempts to pull free until they were inside the mansion as Warren unsuccessfully tried to deny his involvement in a meeting.

“I was going to head down there and throw him out,” Warren snarled as he felt himself pushed forward into the vestibule.

“That wouldn’t do,” Hank answered with a shake of his head, his blue hair shimmering in the light. “This is a team matter and as a team we should discuss it. I’ll get the Professor, you assemble the others.” He waited watching until Warren, turned to leave and then smiling headed for Xavier’s office.

It took about 20 minutes for the entire team to assemble in the war room, questions flying at Ro and Jean who had obviously seen Gambit as they waited for Scott, Hank and the Professor. Several wanted to know how he was doing with a modicum of concern, several wanted to boot him out with little regard for whatever state he might be in, and several sat pensive giving no opinion whatsoever. All kept looking back and forth between Rogue and Storm, the pair obviously heading up the two different camps. As the chatter grew becoming more emotional and divisive, the Professor came in and cleared his throat, Hank and Scott flanking either side of him. Silence fell as all sets of eyes turned to the man whose vision they followed.

Slowly, Xavier looked around at the assembled group, still considering what to say and how to say it before nodding. “As everyone is aware,” his eyes shot over to Jubilee and Bobby with a frown before continuing, “Gambit has returned.” He paused hearing some grumbling and a sniffle from Rogue. “He is back because I asked him to return,” he continued looking at Rogue until the southern belle looked down a touch of red coloring her cheeks.

“He’s a traitor,” Warren blurted out but Xavier held up a hand. 

“I know for a fact, Remy was used by Sinister and if we don’t bring him here he will be used by Sinister again.” The Professor paused wondering whether or not to mention Gambit’s empathic abilities but decided against it. Most of the team distrusted the Cajun; they always had because of his secretive nature and less than law abiding background and would immediately become suspicious of his empathic abilities, wondering if the Cajun would or had manipulated them. And so he continued a bit more carefully. “Sinister has been experimenting with Gambit’s DNA and is trying to get him for further experimentation. We cannot allow it.” He glanced around the room. “For now, Remy has agreed to stay at the boathouse and Logan is staying with him. Should anyone wish to see him, to welcome him back, feel free. However, we all have made mistakes in our lives, Gambit included, and if you don’t wish to forgive and forget, stay away from him. I will say no more on the subject,” he turned to leave as Scott folded his arms and stared at his team in a bit more threatening a manner.

“I agree with the Professor. So go in friendship or stay away,” Scott followed the Professor out, Jean joining her husband. Hank watched them go and then looked at Warren. 

“He’s faced some difficult situations since Antarctica. He is no condition to be anywhere else,” he stated hoping this would calm the winged mutant.

“Why should we care,” Warren answered indicating Rogue. “He’s hurt her, Rogue should be our concern.” He glanced at the young woman who looked down demurely and Hank had to admit she played her part well. If he hadn’t seen her strangling Gambit a little while ago he wouldn’t have believed her capable of swatting a fly. Without a word, he turned away. He had blood samples to analyze.

“Thank you, Warren,” Rogue whispered batting her lashes as beast turned to leave.

“Of course we care about Marie,” Jubilee hugged the woman near her. “We’ll just have to keep Gambit away from her.”

“I think we will have to keep her away from my brother,” Ro answered standing and heading for the door. “Excuse me, I have to bring him some dinner.” Warren, Betsy and Marie watched her go and then waited until the other x-men had followed her out.

“Well, we know where most of the x-men stand on the issue of Gambit,” Betsy said with a smirk. She had never liked the Cajun. She could still remember the first time she had tried to go into his head uninvited. Not only did she find his shields too strong but he had turned and berated her for her efforts, in front of the whole team. 

“Yes,” Warren answered coldly. “They’ve been taken in by him again. He belongs with Sinister,” he grumbled.

“Maybe, sugar, that’s where he should end up.” Warren turned and smiled looking at the Southern Belle.

“That would be justice,” he agreed.

“Well, we will just have to make him feel unwelcome so he leaves,” Rogue answered with a smile that matched Warren’s. “And,” Rogue added to herself, careful not to say it aloud, “it might not hurt to drop Sinister a hint where he could find the Cajun.”


	7. Empathy

Remy played with the dinner Ro brought to the boathouse that evening, pushing it around the plate listlessly as Logan and Ro watched with concern. Ro had heard about Rogue’s visit and though she didn’t mention it to Remy, she knew while others might not be as physical as Rogue, there would be unpleasant encounters. Logan also knew what was going on, she had called and warned him about the meeting and the factions that seemed to be forming. 

“Eat kid,” Logan ordered, watching the Cajun with disapproval. “Hank made me promise to get some weight on ya.” To emphasize the point, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a bottle of pills. placing the vitamins down in front of Remy and rapping the table so the empath would look up and see them.

Remy gave a disgusted look at the vitamins, his eyes moving over the bottle Ro had obviously given to Logan. With a sigh of resignation, he nodded and lifted a fork full of food chewing mindlessly before resuming the listless playing, he just wasn’t hungry. The empathy was picking up the concern coming from Ro and Logan and Remy was not a stupid young man. He could guess what they were concerned about; especially, after Rogue’s visit. He looked down at the plate wondering why he had let Logan talk him into coming back and reached for the vitamins, swallowing one with some water so Logan would leave him alone about the food.

“Not hungry tonight, Cher,” he said.

“Are you ill Remy?” Storm asked with concern, a hand reaching up to feel his forehead. “Shall I send for Henry?”

“Non, Remy is fine. He jus tired.” He stood lifting his plate and heading for the kitchen.

“The kid is depressed, Ro,” Logan whispered, making sure Remy couldn’t hear. “Sinister gave him a bad time and he’s got nowhere to go to avoid that bastard except among people he thinks don’t want him.” Storm nodded as Remy came back into the room.

“Why don’t we go and sit by the fire?” she asked reaching over to take the empath’s hand. Remy was going to say no. He wanted to take a walk down by the lake and clear his head but he could see the need to comfort in Ro’s eyes and nodded, the Storm Witch rising and heading into the living room as Logan cleared the table.

Remy and Ro sat by the fire for several hours talking quietly. While they talked Logan went to the mansion and gathered more clothes and some other items that might be useful for a longer stay and the picture of Remy’s family he had put away when he first heard the empath was gone. On the way out, he cast a glance at the sitting room where Rogue sat chatting quietly with Jubilee, Bobby, and Joseph. Logan hoped she wasn’t going to turn his Jubes against Remy but there was nothing to do about it at the moment as he shouldered his bag and headed down to the boathouse. 

On the path, the clear night and moonlight illuminated the ground as Logan walked, his senses telling him other x-men were in the area. With a glance to the right, he noticed Bobby near the tree line talking to Warren both facing the boathouse and something told the Canadian that the Rogue camp was trying to gain members. “Great,” he told himself as he continued forward, “a civil war developing in our own house and Rem caught in the middle.” Shaking his head, he continued forward and entered the room where Ro and Remy sat, Ro’s head on Remy’s shoulder.

Storm looked up at his entrance and turned, relaxing as she realized it was Logan. “Hello, Logan,” she gently pulled away from Remy and stood. “I should go,” she leaned down to peck Remy’s cheek before coming over and doing the same to Logan. “Take care of him, Logan,” she whispered and Logan nodded as she swept out.

Logan glanced over at the Cajun. “I brought something I thought ya might want, Rem.” He handed Remy the picture and watched as the thief ran a loving finger over it with a sad smile.

“Merci, Logan,” he stood and placing it on the table turned toward the door. 

“Where ya goin kid?” Logan asked wondering if he should stop the kid. He didn’t want the kid to go off – especially knowing Warren and Bobby were about but he didn’t want Remy thinking he was a prisoner.

“I’m going for a walk down by de lake,” he turned and looked back at Logan. “Are you worried about Rogue or Essex, or someone else?”

“Just be careful,” the Canadian said deciding not to answer as he watched him go before deciding to sit out on the porch and keep half an eye on the lake. Grabbing a beer he gave Remy a five minute head start and then walked out to sit and watch.

Outside Remy walked down the path. He didn’t need the light, his red eyes could clearly see as he walked down until he stood at the edge of the lake watching the water lap gently back and forth over the small rocks that littered the shoreline. Looking out across the water, Remy decided his life was very much like the water, always receding, never letting him find a home he could stay in, always being drawn away from places he wanted to stay. It happened in New Orleans when he was forced to leave his family, it happened again at Xavier’s mansion.

Reaching down Remy picked up a stone letting it run through his fingers, feeling the smoothness of it. Careful not to charge it, Remy tossed it into the water, hearing the soft splash as he tried to think of what he should do and tried to order the confusion of the last few days. He had to stay away from Sinister but he couldn’t stay here for very long. He’d get his strength back and then he’d go. He wasn’t wanted by the x-men.

He reached down and lifting another stone threw it into the water as he continued to think about leaving. He didn’t know what he could do about Sinister, where he could go, but he was sure he would have to fight Logan to go. The Canadian wanted him near and though that was comforting it also hurt badly. The woman, and Remy still had no idea who she was, was right. Logan should have been his mate but he knew that was no longer feasible. He reached down for a third stone, distracted and stood up to look into Warren’s face as the x-men moved close, glaring at Remy. 

Remy could feel the anger coming off of Angel and he took an involuntary step backwards as he stared into the handsome, angry, face. “Ange?” he questioned softly, deciding he needed to keep the tone calm, or else it would explode.

“What are you doing here? Why did you come back?” Warren hissed, his arms reaching up to push the younger man back. “You’re a traitor, we don’t want you here.” Warren pushed at Remy who staggered back a step, more from the emotions barreling into him than the physical attack as Warren looked over him with contempt. “Why don’t you go back to the Marauders and kill some more people. Then we can hunt you down and do what needs to be done.” Remy went sheet white at the suggestion, his heart beating faster, pain climbing into his chest as he shook his head in denial. He wanted to tell Warren he hadn’t known what the Marauders would do, that he tried to stop them but no words came out and Angel sneered. “Wolverine and Storm may want you here but the rest of us don’t. You should take your worthless, thieving, whoring hide and leave.”

Remy looked at the man he had once called teammate, saying nothing. There really was nothing to say. The anger was earned and so he just shook his head, feeling the anger at betrayal build in Angel, morphing slowly into hatred before his eyes as Warren’s eyes narrowed. “Can’t you say anything?” he grabbed Remy’s arms shaking him, aware the empath was making no move to stop him, to fight. Slowly, Warren’s hands reached up, circling Remy’s throat and still the Cajun made no move to stop him, something in Remy thinking he deserved nothing more and that this might be the easiest way to end his problems. No one would ever be hurt by him again if Warren simply squeezed. And Warren could feel it too, some incomprehensible force drawing forward to do the very thing he hated the empath for doing, killing something defenseless and right now, the winged mutant knew Remy was defenseless. Some part of him wanted to stop before it was too late but the new hating part pushed him to continue as his fingers slid tighter around the boy’s neck. But not tight enough to stop the air flow, yet.

“The kid doesn’t answer to you Warren. Let him go.” Wolverine said from behind him. Having seen the winged mutant head down to the lake Logan had followed, knowing there would be trouble.

Slowly, Warren’s hands dropped from Remy’s slender neck to the empath’s shoulders and then he gave a hard shove knocking the Cajun to the ground as he turned and looked at Logan, not admitting he was relieved that someone had stopped him.

"You shouldn’t have brought him here, Wolverine. None of us want him here.” Angel turned and walked away, Remy still sitting on the ground watching him go as Logan turned back and realizing the empath would sit there all night, reached down and pulled him to his feet.

“You shouldn’t have stopped him,” was all the Cajun whispered as Logan slipped an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close, walked him back up to the boathouse.

In the boathouse, Logan sat the boy down on the couch and pulling a chair over in front of him, looked over the empath critically. Remy stared back blindly, his red eyes filled with quiet torment and Wolverine guessed this was just too much for the kid to take in. The boy needed time and comfort. “Remy,” he whispered softly. “Warren is wrong; you are not responsible for others’ actions.” 

Slowly, the empath allowed his gaze to turn back to Wolverine. He could feel the concern emanating from the older mutant and he wondered why Logan even bothered to care about him. “He hates me,” Remy answered. “Could feel it, not jus anger mais hate. Soon dey all will, Cher. You can’t stand up to dem all, better if I jus go.”

Well, actually Logan thought he could if it came right down to it and he knew Remy was wrong about some of the others, Ro, Scott, Jean, Hank and Charles for sure. And he doubted his Jubes would ever really hate Remy. He knew Rogue, Betsy and Warren were against the kid, probably Joseph too. That certainly didn’t account for everyone, still, he would take the empath somewhere else if it weren’t for Sinister but Remy was trapped and needed to stay put where he was safe. “Remy, you’re not really making sense kid. You know Charles, Scott, Jean, Hank and Ro are happy you’re here. You’re just worn out. Things will be better after you get some rest.” 

Remy looked back at Logan for a moment silently. He knew nothing would get better but he decided not to fight Wolverine on the matter. These people were Logan’s teammates and he didn’t want to turn Logan against them. Instead, he turned and watched the fire, giving Logan at chance to watch the young man thoughtfully. The young man needed rest and the Canadian fingered the bottle of pills in his pocket wondering if he should give one to the Acadian. It would knock the kid out for the night and that might not be a bad thing considering his mental state. He could spend a night with Johnny Walker and Rem some other time when the kid was in better shape. Nodding to himself, he rose and retrieved some water, handing the Cajun a glass and a small pill. The Cajun looked at the pill and shook his head.

“Non,” he answered. “Don’ need it.”

“Yeah, ya do,” he insisted. “Hank said it’s mild, like warm milk and yer a cat. A warm bowl of milk is just what ya need.” Remy snorted but he was too worn out to fight and so he took the pill and swallowed it with the water before curling up on the couch and watching the fire. A few minutes later, Logan realized Remy was out for the night. Glancing at the boy, he smiled before going and picking up the phone.

‘Hey Blue,” he greeted when Hank answered down in the lab.

“Logan, how is our Acadian this evening?”

“He is really depressed, Hank.” Logan could hear the creak of a chair as the doctor sat up. 

“Logan, I have been researching empathy and empaths,” the doctor answered. “I think you and I should have a conversation about Remy.”

Logan didn’t like the sound of that, not one bit, and wondered what Hank could have found. “Whatever ya gave the kid knocked him out so unless ya want me to get Ro you’re goin to have to come here. I don want to leave him alone tonight.”

“That would be best I think,” the doctor agreed. “I will be there shortly.” 

Logan glanced at the figure asleep on the end of the couch. Remy’s head rested on his arm, his hair covering his face, his legs curled tight to his body. Reaching over, Logan gently pushed back his hair and looked at the young man. Remy was breathtakingly beautiful and Logan took some time to examine the face in detail, admiring the long eyelashes that brushed his high angular cheekbones, the full lips in a very kissable mouth, and a small pert nose before gently letting a hand slide down his cheek. He smiled as he heard the boy sigh and he pulled his hand back not wanting to disturb him as he touched the soft silk that topped the boy’s head, letting a lock of hair slide between his fingers. With a sigh of his own Logan lifted Remy and carried him upstairs putting him onto the bed before getting a beer while waiting for Hank.

Twenty minutes later, Hank knocked on the door and Logan let him in. Accepting a beer, Hank McCoy sat down at the dining room table and considered his friend in silence until Logan began to growl impatiently. Hank considered him a moment longer and smiled looking down at his beer. “Charles spoke with me,” he began at lastm the smile disappearing. “He believes Remy has repressed most of his empathic abilities. After our discussion I began to do some research into empathy and empaths.” Hank shook his head. “Logan, empaths are rare. They are sensitive to emotions and everyone experiences emotions, the strongest usually being the most devastating. As a result, they are far more subject to depression and,” Hank paused fractionally, “suicide. The reason there are so few empaths is they don’t usually survive their teens, emotionally it is too much for them.” He looked at Logan. “We should consider ourselves lucky that he is merely suffering from depression.” Logan nodded, thinking back to Remy’s confrontation with Warren. “You can’t blame the boy for burying the abilities, they are overwhelming,” Hank finished.

“That’s how he ended up in the Marauder mess. He went to Sinister because his powers were out of control,” Logan answered. “And now Sinister wants him back.”

“It is highly likely the geneticist knows more about Remy’s abilities than our young empath does. And whether Sinister could duplicate Remy’s abilities, or not, and I suspect he will not be able to, controlling Remy would prove just as useful.”

“Why wouldn’t Sinister be able to duplicate the abilities?”

Hank smiled. “Empathy requires sensitivity to others. Sinister could never be sensitive to others. He is far too self-centered; however, it would be disastrous if he controlled Remy. From what I know of our Cajun it would destroy him.” Logan nodded his agreement.

“How do we help him, Hank?”

“Right now he is suffering from depression, with good reason. We must try and dissipate the negativity he feels.”

“You better tell that to the team Hank, because Warren just tried to strangle him.” Logan watched as Hank looked up in shock.

“I will discuss it with Charles and see what I can do from within the mansion. In the meantime, keep him close and keep an eye on him.” Hank rose to leave but turned back. “If you need anything…”

Logan nodded. “Thanks Blue,” he walked the doctor to the door and made sure to lock it after the mutant left. Turning off the lights, he went upstairs and checked on the young man. Remy hadn’t moved, his soft breathing deep and even. Leaving the door to Remy’s bedroom opened, Logan went into the other bedroom, and leaving that door open so he could hear if the kid stirred, he relaxed closing his eyes.


	8. Revelations

It was early morning, the sun just lighting the landscape as Warren stood by the window watching the sun rise. He had been up all night trying to understand what had happened down by the lake. Yes, he hated Remy, yes, Remy was a traitor, yes, he wanted Remy gone but the idea of killing the Cajun in such a cold blooded way! Warren couldn’t believe he had his hands around the young man’s neck, that he could have just squeezed and that Remy would let him. What could he have been thinking? He was still trying to understand what was happening when there was a quiet knock on the door. The knock was not one loud enough to wake someone sleeping; it was almost like a gentle running of knuckles across the wooden door, but it was loud enough for the man who had been up all night to hear. For a moment Warren wondered who would be looking for him at this hour. It couldn’t be an emergency, not with that soft a call. Shrugging he turned from the window.

“It’s open,” he announced and watched Hank walk in. Warren nodded. Hank would know he was up. His senses were almost as keen as Wolverine’s and would hear his movement.

“May I speak with you Warren?” he asked and received a nod as the winged mutant indicated a leather armchair in the corner of the room. Hank looked around noting the small expensive objects as he moved over to fit his large bulk into the chair, hearing it creak with the addition of his substantial weight. Fortunately, the armchair could accommodate the blue mutant. “Thank you,” the doctor said as he considered Warren. He had known Warren for years and knew he could be arrogant and pompous, even ruthless and cruel, but he was no murderer. “I would like to discuss the incident that occurred down by the lake.” Hank immediately saw the reaction as Warren looked away uncomfortably, his body language indicating that he was on the defensive.

“Did Gambit send you here?” There was anger in the tone.

“No.”

“Than Wolverine?”

“No again, but Logan did inform me that you tried to strangle Remy.” 

Warren stared out the window again and sighed knowing he had found no answers to his actions and as illogical as it would seem it had made him even angrier with the Cajun. “I’ve been trying to understand why I did it, all night.” He turned and looked at the blue mutant. Hank had always been helpful, honest and discrete. “I was angry, I can’t stand Gambit, even before we found out what he had done I never really liked the thief and after I learned what he did with the Marauders... but I would never kill someone in cold blood.” There was a plea in those words and Hank heard it and nodded his agreement realizing Warren had no clue as to the motivations for his actions.

“Tell me what happened, Warren.”

The winged mutant smirked. “I’m sure Wolverine and Gambit already have.”

“Actually, no. Logan mentioned you tried to strangle Remy and gave no more information and our resident Acadian was already asleep when I spoke with Logan.”

“I didn’t really. My hands were around his neck and I thought I could just squeeze but I never did,” he answered sounding like a young boy trying to get out of trouble for some foolish act. “I wanted to but I didn’t.”

“Good, now let’s start from the beginning,” Beast said patiently. 

Warren nodded his agreement and moved to sit on the end of the bed near the doctor and looked down at his hands wonderingly. “I was angry because Wolverine brought the traitor back here. I was thinking I should just tell him to get out and when I saw him walk down towards the lake, alone, I went to tell him. I swear, Hank, I was just going to tell him to leave before he destroys the team. When I got there, when I stood in front of him, I got angrier and I put my hands around his neck. Then Wolverine told me to let him go and I threw him down on the ground and left. I never actually did anything, Hank. If he says I did, he’s lying.”

“What did Remy do?” Hank asked with a frown.

“Nothing, he didn’t say anything, he didn’t do anything. He just stood there.” Hank reached up and removed his glasses, wiping them clean as he considered what he had heard. 

“Warren, my friend,” he paused replacing the glasses, not sure how to continue. The doctor suspected that Remy’s own empathy was in part at fault for the violent attempt. Remy was suffering from depression and angry with himself over the betrayal and loss of his team, friends and love. He blamed himself for it and his empathy might be pushing that negativity and self hatred at others making them act on it. It was possible that the empathy’s restraints had been loosened while under Sinister’s control and was surfacing. But Hank couldn’t tell any of this to Warren, he would immediately blame Remy for any emotion he ever experienced. “Perhaps you were caught in the moment. The fact that you didn’t do anything suggests that you were more frustrated and angry than murderous.” Hank realized he was making excuses for Warren but he had to find some way to diffuse the situation, especially if Remy’s empathy was in part responsible.

“I’m no murderer, Hank,” Warren stated but it sounded more like a question in need of confirmation.

“No you are not,” the doctor agreed. “But I think it would be best if you kept away from Remy.” Hank stood and turned toward the door, his concern for the empath escalating as he considered the events that had transpired.

“It would be a lot easier if Gambit would leave,” were Warren’s words as he left the room.

Henry McCoy stepped out into the hall and stood by the door thinking. Even though he didn’t have Logan’s ability to sniff out when someone was lying, he didn’t doubt that Warren was telling the truth. There were perhaps some omissions from the tale. He was sure based on what he knew of Warren’s character that the man had been verbally abusive and would have been physically abusive if Remy had done more than just stand there watching him. But trying to kill an unresponsive boy was not in character and McCoy could only lay the blame for that on Remy’s empathy. Which of course meant Remy was, at present, to some extent suicidal. Remy would have to be watched closely but as long as he was with Logan that wouldn’t be a problem. A bigger problem was how to test his theory. He would need the assistance of another empath or a telepath to test his theory and he was reluctant to share his concerns about a patient with anyone. He knew he would have to tell Logan for Remy’s safety, but telling anyone else breeched patient confidentiality. 

Walking down to the lab, Hank considered his options. He could tell one of the telepaths that he wanted to test Remy’s sensitivity to see if it had been altered by Sinister. There was a lot of truth in that statement and it would give back the information he needed without betraying Remy. Yes, that was how he would do it. So he would need to decide on a telepath. Certainly not Betsy, only Jean or Charles would be used and though Charles was stronger, there had always been some kind of reluctance on Remy’s part to let him near. Remy had been much more open with Jean. Decision made, action decided, Hank entered the lab. He would wait for a decent hour and then speak with the telepath; in the meantime, he would call Logan and warn the Canadian.

Logan answered the phone on the first ring balancing the phone against his ear as he continued frying up bacon. “Hello,” he practically growled wondering who the hell would call so early in the morning and annoyed that they might wake the Cajun. He was planning on making Remy a large breakfast and seeing to it the kid ate it.

“Good morning Logan,” the answer was cheerful, obviously Hank. “How are you on this fine morning?” 

“Fine Blue.” he answered while dumping the bacon onto a paper towel. Cooking breakfast wasn’t something Wolverine normally did but he wanted the kid to eat and so… Having turned off the bacon and having not started the eggs yet he gave his full attention to the phone. “What’s up? You don’t usually call people this early.”

“True, but I knew you would be awake.” Hank’s answer was a little too smug for Logan. Even if the doctor did know Logan got up early he didn’t have to announce the fact. “How is Remy?”

“When I checked on him a little while ago he was still out. Whatever you gave him knocked him for a loop.”

“Yes, well, it was not such a strong drug but our Acadian is woefully in need of sleep, nourishment and comfort.” He paused. “He should be awake soon. His metabolism has a tendency to burn up drugs rather quickly.”

“Good cause the bacon’s done.” Wolverine answered taking a seat. “So what is up, Hank?”

“Logan, I am hypothesizing but I am fairly certain my theory will be…”

“Hank whatever it is just say it.” Logan sounded impatient.

“I believe Sinister may have tampered with Remy’s empathy, possibly awakening it to more of its potential. As a result, he may cause others to attack him.”

“Wha…?” Logan frowned and Hank sighed audibly.

“Logan, when you found Warren with Remy how was he acting?” 

Wolverine paused thinking. “It was odd Blue,” he admitted at last. “When he first went down he was acting Warrenish, screaming and yelling at the kid. But by the time I got there he was quiet. I wouldn’t have believed he was trying to hurt the kid if I hadn’t seen it.”

“I have a theory and will be asking Jean to review it later today. I believe Remy’s empathy caused Warren to attack him.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Logan answered with annoyance.

“Is it? We know Remy spent a week with Sinister who was studying his empathy. Since his return he has been bombarded by negativity. Is it such a great leap to infer that Remy might use his newly awakened empathy to punish himself for what he and others believe he deserves?”

Logan frowned thinking this over. “There’s a flaw in your theory. I’m with the kid and I don’t feel like killing him.”

“You have no negativity to exploit and you don’t want to punish him.”

“Blue if what you are saying is true than Remy is likely to hurt himself.”

“Or manipulate another into doing it for him without realizing it,” Hank finished the thought. “Keep him close and be vigilant Logan. I will have Jean test his empathy later today but I think we both know that I am right.”

“So what do we do?” Logan asked.

“Give him time to learn to control his empathy and help him see what he is and isn’t responsible for,” Hank answered. “I will come and talk with him later today, until then, keep him safe Logan.” Hank hung up.

Logan looked at the phone for several minutes before resting it on its cradle and wondering what he would do with Remy. He couldn’t get the kid’s whispered words from the previous night out of his head when he said that Logan shouldn’t have stopped Warren from strangling him. He hadn’t told Hank about that but it certainly gave credence to the doctor’s theory. Glancing upward and hearing light footsteps in the room over his head he knew Remy was just waking and would need breakfast and decided to leave the theorizing behind until Jean confirmed it. Instead, he grabbed the eggs and started to make a large omelet. 

Upstairs, Remy woke and stretched looking around. For a minute he didn’t know where he was and then realized he was in one of the boathouse’s bedrooms. He didn’t remember going there and guessed Logan carried him up to bed after giving him that pill that proved to be much more than “a warm bowl of milk.” Getting out of bed and stretching his muscles, he let his palms touch the floor, legs straight as the smell of cooking bacon filtered into his caffeine deprived brain. With a smile, he went down the hall to the bathroom and took a quick shower getting dressed before turning up in the kitchen where Logan was just finishing up an omelet. Ignoring the food, he moved straight to the coffee pot and grabbed a cup as he greeted Logan.

“Morning Cher,” he offered over the rim of the cup as Logan divided the ham and cheese omelet in half and dished it onto two plates, adding healthy helpings of bacon and several slices of toast to each.

“Sit down, Gumbo and eat. The food’s nice and hot.” Logan indicated the table and Remy smiled taking a seat and looking critically at the food before tasting it.

“Didn’ know you could cook.”

“Lived on my own too long not to but don’t go tell the others. If anyone asks, you did the cookin.” Remy nodded retrieving some hot sauce from the fridge. Everyone in the house knew the Cajun could cook and more often than not he was assigned kitchen duties but always with the proviso that he was not to cook anything too hot.

“How ya feelin this morning, Rem?” he asked as he watched Remy eat several forkfuls of food before lifting some toast.

“A little groggy from de pill. Dat was no warm bowl of milk,” he protested mimicking the Canadian’s speech and mannerisms. Logan laughed watching him.

“Well ya look a little better fer the sleep.” He indicated that Remy should eat. “Come on kid, finish up.” Remy looked down at the plate. He had eaten at least two thirds of the food and there had been a lot. Standing, he retrieved the coffee pot refilling both his and Logan’s cups ignoring the plate of food.

“And den what, Wolvie? I can’t just stay here hiding?”

“Ya can’t go anywhere till ya get some weight on ya kid. You need to get ya strength back and don’t call me Wolvie.” Remy smiled but the smile quickly died and Logan understanding Remy hated being useless leaned forward a hand resting on the thief’s arm. “Rem do ya want to come back and be a member of the team?” Remy looked down not knowing how to answer. Part of him wanted to be here but some other part told him he would never be accepted back and some other part told him to stay and take whatever abuse was dished out as punishment. 

Looking at Logan he shook his head and the Canadian assumed Remy didn’t want to come back, an answer that he respected but hated. But that wasn’t what Remy meant and his next words made it clear. “Don know Cher. Dis Cajun is jus too confused maintenant. Not sure what to do.” 

Logan nodded hoping Jean would come soon so they could get through the quagmire of what was going on with the Cajun. “That’s understandable, we can let it rest and think about it in a few days when yer more like yer old pain in the ass self. Now finish eating.”

Remy didn’t make it through all the food but he came close enough to satisfy Wolverine and then declared he would take over the cooking. This way he would be doing something useful. But there was little for him to do that morning. Hank had said no exercise and Logan enforced that rule so Remy spent the morning complaining about his inability to work out, wandering the house and getting into every nook, cranny and box within, surfing the internet and in general driving Logan crazy; the last activity being the most entertaining. And then Jean had shown up right before lunch, her smile making the Cajun extremely suspicious. 

“How are you today, Remy?” she asked and the Cajun had smiled sure something more was going on. Especially, when Logan came and stood in the doorway watching them as Scott brought in sandwich meats and bread. 

“Fine, Cherie. How are you?”

“I’m fine. I thought we might have lunch together while Logan and Scott get some other supplies you’ll need. I’m sure you will need some other foods, some toiletries, cleansers.” She indicated that Scott and Logan should go and the two men left as Remy joined her, sure there was another agenda.

Two hours later, Remy and Jean were sitting on the front porch, Remy in his duster and Jean in a light jacket to keep warm, the early fall weather that hinted at colder days to come, disturbing neither of them. They were sipping a deliciously cool chardonnay when Logan and Scott returned with a huge number of bags. 

“Welcome back,” Jean stood and came forward using her powers to lift several bags and walk into the house, the bags floating with her as Remy, Logan and Scott grabbed the rest and followed. Inside, she rested the bags on the counter and giving Remy a kiss on the cheek headed for the door. 

“Rem, I’ll be right back,” Logan left the Cajun in the kitchen as he unpacked and turned to follow the redhead. Outside in the afternoon sunlight he looked over the woman he had at one time loved as Scott joined her.

“His empathy has definitely strengthened,” she informed her husband and Logan. “I doubt he realizes it though,” she said as she turned towards the mansion. “I’ll let Hank know and then you two can talk to him about it,” and then she was gone. Scott turned and glanced at Logan. The Canadian had not given him Hank’s theory about how Remy might be using his empathy but had recounted the previous day’s events.

“Keep an eye on him Wolverine and I’ll talk to some of the members of the team about him,” he turned to follow his wife.

Logan walked back into the house as Remy finished refrigerating foods, the Cajun stopping to watch him. “What was dat about Cher?” he asked and Logan shrugged reaching for a beer. 

“Didn’t want to leave ya alone while I shopped.”

“Der’s more to it,” Remy demanded and Logan glanced over his beer at the young man, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t want to lie to the kid but he didn’t want to say anything without Hank present. Taking another gulp and finishing the can in the process, Logan smiled innocently causing all kinds of warning bells to go off in the Cajun’s head.

“Let’s get the stuff put away and then we’ll sit outside and drink some beer and chat.” Remy narrowed his eyes but there was nothing he could do and so he turned putting away the food. By the time they finished, Hank had arrived and the three went out to sit on the porch, Remy finishing the wine bottle he and Jean had been drinking while Logan took another beer and Hank having found a box of twinkies in the kitchen took those onto the porch.

Outside the late afternoon sun shone down on the path where leaves in different colors were just beginning to fall from the trees in a spectacular display of color and Remy had to admit that autumns in New York were beautiful. But Remy was becoming impatient and nervous with the ongoing silence. “If you have somethin to say to dis Cajun, best you say it,” he suggested twirling the wine in his glass and trying to seem relaxed. Glancing at the mutants on either side of him, Remy realized he wasn’t fooling them.

Hank smiled gently, and Logan tilted his seat back deciding it was Hank’s theory and he should run with the ball. “Hank,” he waved the can at him, indicating he should proceed and the blue mutant gave him a look but turned to look at Remy wishing the young man didn’t wear sunglasses. He knew the Cajun’s eyes were sensitive to light, even these last rays of sunlight but he would rather see his face.

“Remy,” he began. “I know that Sinister was interested in your empathy. What kinds of tests did he run on you?” Remy frowned looking at Hank his heart starting to beat faster as suspicion and fear grew inside of him.

“Pourquoi?” 

“I will explain presently,” Hank promised.

Remy shrugged, hoping his voice sounded calm. “Not sure, took samples, was drugged for some of de tests,” he admitted.

“Would Sinister be capable of doing something to the blocks you have on your empathy?” Hank asked reaching forward and removing the Cajun’s glasses now that sun’s rays had passed beyond the trees, so he could get a clearer view of Remy’s face. The young man paled at the suggestion, his eyes widening and Logan suddenly had the impression of a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching vehicle. Remy definitely didn’t like the tenor of the questions as looked over the doctor.

“He put de blocks der,” he whispered.

“So then he could manipulate them? Possibly weaken them?” Hank asked and slowly the empath nodded, fear crawling up the pit of his stomach. “Remy,” Hank said as gently as he could, “Jean, Logan and I think that’s just what he did. Is there any possible way you could confirm this?” Remy looked down, his bangs falling in front of his face, the two older x-men knowing that was a sign that the Cajun was upset.

“Haven’t been around many people since getting away,” Remy whispered softly, his voice so quiet both men had to strain to hear him.

“Rems, last night you said somethin about seein Wings’ anger,” Logan reminded him quietly. “I never heard you say you could see it before.”

“Non, didn’ see it Cher. But felt it, was so strong it hurt,” he stopped. “Mon Dieu,” he said softly with a moan. “De empathy is stronger.” Both Logan and Hank could hear the despair in the statement and a hint of it in their own emotions which they immediately and intelligently attributed to Remy’s increased abilities.

“Remy, being an empath is a wonderful thing. You’ll just need some time to adjust your shields.” Hank tried to put a positive spin on the situation but the empath would have none of it. Shaking his head in denial, he stood and turned away heading down the path towards the lake. Hank rose to follow him, he wanted to try and help Remy see that this was not the disaster the young man clearly considered it was, but Logan stopped him indicating he should sit back down.

“Let him go Blue. He needs some time to work this out.”

“He will have to hear the rest Logan. His empathy is a danger especially to him.”

“He doesn’t need to hear it right now.” 

“I presume you also felt Remy’s emotions when he realized what Sinister had done. I would speculate that at the moment he cannot block extreme emotions.”

“Yeah, I felt it. The kid needs support is all. He has to learn to deal with it." The doctor turned and considered Logan momentarily. 

“You really care about our resident Acadian.” Logan smiled sadly and nodded. “Why don’t you tell him?”

Logan sighed watching Remy in the distance seeing mostly his silhouette as the darkness increased. The kid was standing by the lake throwing stones into the water. The Cajun looked so isolated standing alone and Logan’s heart ached when he considered most people wanted Remy to be alone: isolated and miserable. “What is he Hank, 24 maybe 25? Hell, he’s a boy and I am an old man. He needs someone young and bright and…”

“Please spare me,” Blue answered impatiently. “The adage about being as old as you feel is more pertinent in your case than any other I know of. And Remy needs someone who can support him emotionally. Rogue never could.”

“Hank it would be like robbing the cradle and I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

Hank sighed. “One of us should talk to him. He needs someone to lean on and shouldn’t be left alone.” He eyed Wolverine critically. “I think he would prefer if it were you.”

“Remy needs a few minutes by himself. Then I’ll go talk to him.” He watched Hank rise and turn in the direction of the house.

“Then I’ll leave you two to talk.” He turned back. “Make sure he eats and sleeps tonight.” He watched Logan nod and then started away but turned back grabbing the box of twinkies. “I will let the Professor know in case Remy needs some help. Charles will probably speak with Remy and you later.” With those last words, twinkies safely tucked under his arm, Hank bounded up towards the house.

Logan sat watching the figure down by the lake for an hour, lighting and smoking a cigar, as Remy passed back and forth along the shoreline in agitation, every so often lifting and throwing a stone in the water. He figured Remy needed time to think through what he had learned. Finally, he rose and made his way down to the lake, deliberately making noise so the Cajun could hear him coming.

Down on the shore, Remy was still trying to come to terms with the removal of his blocks. He would need stronger shields, he knew that, and that would be an exhaustive process to build. Without those blocks his empathy could vibrate with the strong emotions of others filling him with their anger and despair, freezing him with hatred and distrust. That’s why he had gone to Sinister in the first place. He couldn’t stand the emotions that overwhelmed him and was afraid of projecting them into others. The only time he had actually been able to live with his empathy was when he was with his father and Mattie. He would always pick up their warmth and it felt so good. A single tear glistened in his eye as he realized he needed to be home with them, protected while he worked at reinforcing his psychic walls, but he was exiled and alone. Bending he threw another stone into the water, forgetting not to charge it and watched it explode. His explosive powers he could live with; they were far easier to deal with than the empathy. No one cared that he could blow up a house if he wanted but everyone who understood what empathy was hated him for it. People distrusted anyone who could play with emotions. Hell, Remy distrusted himself when it came to his empathy.

“I don’t think it’s wise to blow things up kid,” Logan stated softly behind him. Remy turned and looked over Logan standing just inches away. “And it won’t make ya feel any better.” Logan cared about him, Remy knew that. Logan would be a friend, a rare enough commodity in the Cajun’s life, but the Canadian could never understand how much time, effort and pain it would take to wipe out the effects of strong negative emotions and Remy knew he would need to anchor on to someone who could feed him caring and warmth. Family would do it but he couldn’t ask that of a friend.

“Sorry,” he answered. “Didn mean to.”

‘You okay kid?” Remy nodded, but both men knew he was lying and Logan stepped closer. “Come here Rems,” Wolverine ordered and watched as the Cajun came closer and then Logan’s arms reached out and closed around him, drawing the young man into a tight embrace. “I’ll help ya, Remy. I promise,” he whispered into the glorious mane of hair. He felt the young man’s body tremble needing physical contact and emotional warmth to fill the cold void left by his former lover and teammates and Logan let his hands run up and down the young man’s back trying to sooth some of the hurt as Remy slowly relaxed in his embrace. 

An hour later, Remy sat in the living room of the boathouse watching the fire as Logan sat beside him. Logan had brought him inside as the cooler night descended and set to work lighting a fire before placing a shot of scotch on the table by Remy. He was even now watching the empath stare into the fire, in something of a state of shock and had forgone making dinner to stay close, though he knew Remy needed to eat. As a gentle reminder of the need to eat, Logan’s stomach gave a loud complaint. 

Remy turned at the sound, an eyebrow rising as he gave a small smile, trying to appear cheerful. “I did promise to cook,” he said his eyes going to the clock on the mantle and seeing that it was already getting late. Logan debated stopping him so he could sit and relax but decided against it. One coping skill was keeping busy and it might just be a means of relaxing the kid. 

“Kinda hungry,” the Canadian admitted.

“Oui, Remy will make dinner.” He rose, graceful and elegant despite everything going on and headed into the kitchen where the clatter of pots and pans told Logan the kid was using the cooking as a coping mechanism. 

Two hours later, the two x-men had eaten their fill of spicy Cajun chicken, rice and a salad, Remy’s mood improving as he watched Logan enjoy the cooking and flavors of his home. The Cajun particularly enjoyed Logan’s humming as he repeatedly poured Remy’s secret special sauce on the food. After the meal, Logan sent Remy into the living room while he loaded the dishwasher but with his sensitive ears he could hear the knock on the door and the Professor’s greetings as he entered the boathouse. Finishing cleaning up, he joined them in the living room nodding to Charles as he took a seat beside Remy.

“Hello Logan,” Charles greeted, his gaze turning back to the Cajun. “I’ve spoken with Henry and he has informed me of what he suspects Sinister has done.” He watched Remy’s ruby eyes on him. “Remy is Henry correct?”

“Oui,” he answered looking down his bangs falling in front of his face as Charles looked at him with interest. 

“I have always tried to respect your privacy Remy and have not pushed into your mind. For one thing,” he added with amusement, “you have very strong shields. However, if your empathy has strengthened you may need some help.” He watched as the young Cajun continued to stare at the floor. “I would be more than happy to assist you should you desire it.” 

“Can you block it?” the Cajun asked softly and the Professor considered the request hearing desperation and pain in the voice as Logan shifted uncomfortably. He could feel the empath’s emotions rising as Remy became upset again. And Charles, who knew how hard Remy worked to keep his mind hidden from the telepaths in the house, knew what the request cost the boy. It was an act of desperation. 

“I don’t know, perhaps in time you and I may be able to do that, but wouldn’t it be better to learn to control it? It is a gift Remy.”

“Non, Professeur it is a curse,” Remy finally looked at Charles his voice bitter. “Would prefer not to have it.”

“Yes, well most mutants say that about their gifts though your gifts do have some special qualities that I can understand are not always desirable. Right now things must seem very dark but if we work together we may bring in some light.” He studied the empath realizing Remy had not yet agreed to any assistance and deciding he needed some time to consider the offer. “Remy do you know why Sinister was interested in your empathy?”

“Non.”

“But you do know how dangerous it can be? That’s why you went to Sinister to block it.” He watched Remy nod. “And that is just why he wants you.” Remy’s pale face went white as he stared at the Professor.

“Won’t let him use it,” he promised. “Won’t let de empathy hurt anyone.”

The Professor nodded. “Very well Remy, we will leave this discussion for another day. Think on what I have said.” He nodded to Logan and left, Remy watching him go thoughtfully.

“Rem the Professor could help,” Logan suggested.

“Non,” Remy answered. “Don want to control it Cher. Want to block it.” He looked over at Logan and the Canadian smiled deciding he might as well finish talking to the kid about the empathy. The sooner all was out in the open the sooner the kid could get used to it and start to heal.

“I have to tell you somethin about yer empathy, kid,” Logan began uncertainly and watched Remy’s questioning gaze on him. “When you get upset your empathy starts to leak out.” He watched Remy still in shock at the statement. “It’s a problem Rem cause it can make others do things they don’t want to do. Warren’s an asshole but he ain’t a cold blooded murderer kid and yet when I went down to the lake last night, he calmly had his hands around yer neck. Remy that was you wanting to punish you and using Warren to do it.”

“Non, wouldn’t use someone dat way,” he swore.

“Not knowingly,” Logan agreed. “But think about how Warren acted. It was yer empathy. I felt it when we were sittin on the porch so did Blue and I felt it when you were with the Professor. Right now when strong emotions affect you - you’re broadcasting it.”

“Sorry Cher, Remy will work on it,” he answered sounding very tired from the emotional roller coaster he had been riding that day.

“Yeah, well that’s a problem for tomorrow,” Logan answered. “Tonight yer goin to finish that scotch and then get some sleep.” Remy lifted his glass in salute as Logan retrieved his own, ignoring the fact that Remy’s glass trembled in his hand as the Cajun turned back to stare again at the fire.


	9. Interludes

Nathaniel Essex stared at Raven Darkholme, aka Mystique, with interest as she stood before him in his study. Leaning back in the large leather chair, he watched her, making her feel like some type of specimen under a glass as she shifted uncomfortably, her blue skin moving enticingly in the light. She had worked for Sinister upon occasion, he had paid well and the two had parted company amicably both profiting from their acquaintance. However, neither seemed to truly trust the other with good reason and Sinister watched the woman closely, his red eyes catching every movement and considering it with his substantial intellect. 

They were in one of Sinister’s hidden bases and he guarded this one carefully and so he had been surprised when Creed had walked in with Mystique on his arm. Sinister had glared at the feline, his fingers twitching as Sabretooth had nodded to the blue shape shifter. “She’s got information you want,” was all he declared and Essex had turned and regarded her curiously. Creed was a savage creature but he was no fool and Sinister knew he would not bring her to the base without good reason. He had nodded and Creed walked out closing the door behind him and leaving Mystique. 

“You could offer me a seat,” she stated coolly, her yellow eyes focusing on the chair near the desk as Sinister raised an eyebrow before extending one hand in invitation allowing Mystique to pull the chair close and sit across from him.

“Creed said you have information you wanted to impart. I am a busy man,” he answered and smiled showing very pointed teeth.

“And I a busy woman sent on an errand by her daughter,” she countered. 

“Rogue of the x-men,” he commented with a sneer and she nodded though Sinister knew his interest was caught. He was aware of the on again off again relationship between Mystique’s adopted daughter and Remy LeBeau. 

“One and the same,” she answered realizing she had the scientist’s attention.

“Well, what is the errand my dear?” he leaned forward resting his elbows on his large oak desk and cupping his chin in one of his hands as he watched the shape shifter. 

“Rogue wants you to know Gambit is hiding at the x-men’s mansion.” Mystique expected some type of response but he just continued looking at her.

“And you didn’t think I knew that,” came the soft reply after some very uncomfortable minutes. “Where else would Wolverine take him?” Mystique shrugged.

“But did you know he is not in the main house but the boathouse. It seems he is not as welcome as one might think.”

“That is interesting,” Sinister agreed.

“And as you don’t want him there and my daughter doesn’t want him there, I would think there is some room for collaboration.” Essex looked over the blue mutant thoughtfully, his face hinting at a smile.

“Rogue is certainly proving the old saying about a woman scorned,” he stated with amusement. “And yes,” he leaned forward and Mystique suppressed a desire to flinch back. “I would like Remy LeBeau returned to me. Perhaps, we can both help each other to meet our ends.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper. “Give this number to Rogue. She can reach me at this number should any useful information become available.” He paused. “I can make valuable information profitable.” Mystique nodded her agreement.

“I’ll see she gets it.” Mystique rose to leave and Sinister caught her wrist in a tight grip that made her wince.

“Tell your daughter I want him unharmed,” he warned and she nodded pulling her wrist free as Creed came to the door and led her out.

Essex sat for an hour after Mystique left, considering her visit. He had been annoyed by the loss of the empath and he still didn’t understand how it had happened. The sedative he gave Remy should have knocked him out for the entire day and yet Remy was gone when he and Creed returned at 2:00. He supposed there might have been something wrong with the drug itself, it was a designer drug made for Remy’s unique metabolism and there might have been some miscalculation in it. He would just have to take a look at the compound before he used it again on the empath. 

And Remy, the brat, had done his share of damage before going. His lab and notes had been destroyed and the computer and backups completely erased so all the experiments he had done on the Cajun were lost. If the empath weren’t valuable he would just kill him and be done but the boy was far too useful to be killed. However, Essex would see to it that Remy was punished for his little misbehavior. 

In the meantime, he would need to put his thoughts to getting Remy back. Not an easy thing to do when he was keeping company with the, at times fascinating, but always annoying, x-men. It would be interesting to find out just how well the empath was accepted. It would allow him to consider how useful Rogue might be.

Within minutes he had summoned Sabretooth and watched as the tall feline mutant entered the room. Sinister glanced up at him. Creed was an incredible creature in his own right, his ruthlessness and savagery mixing with his intelligence and strength to make him a useful tool. “You were right to bring her here,” he stated softly glancing over the man. “Her daughter may prove useful.” Sinister indicated a large chair and Creed sat down watching the geneticist. “Mystique’s daughter wants to punish Remy for whatever reason.” He chuckled. “The boy cared about her but I doubt he ever really loved her. How can you love someone you can’t touch?” 

Sabretooth gave no answer but shrugged, he couldn’t care less if Rogue and Gambit loved each other or not. He would just as happily see Rogue dead and Gambit, well, Gambit had proved entertaining in Essex’ lab, the feline might have some use for Gambit. In the past, he either had an active partner sexually who could keep up with his energetic appetites, such as Mystique or he had a dead partner who couldn’t withstand his ardor. But he had to admit he had found a sadistic pleasure in forcing the young Cajun and perverse satisfaction in making the boy enjoy it as he impaled him. He had told Sinister he could make the boy cum and it had required him to be a bit more gentle than he was used to, but the effect and humiliation were worth slowing down. Yes, he could use Gambit’s services again.

Sinister glanced down at his desk thoughtfully. “I need to know if Rogue’s information is reliable. I want you to go to the mansion and watch. I want to know how they feel about Remy, who likes him, who doesn’t. But you must not be seen or noticed.” Sinister glared at Creed. “You’ll have to be careful of Wolverine’s senses, they are sharp.” 

Sabretooth nodded. “Can do.” He stood and looked down at his boss. “Should I take him if the chance arises?”

“No. I need to know how vulnerable he really is emotionally. Once you have the information get back to me. We will do nothing yet.” Sinister glanced over the feline. “However, when the time comes Remy will need to be punished for what he did to my lab and I will need new samples.” He raised an eyebrow and watched as Sabretooth realized what he was suggesting. “May I rely on you for assistance?”

“Sure.” Creed smiled with cold amusement and turned to leave.

“Creed,” the mutant stopped at the tone and turned back. “Here or there, I will not have Remy harmed. I consider him valuable.” 

“Why?” The feline mutant finally dared to ask a question that had puzzled him for some time. He and the other marauders had watched Sinister’s treatment of Gambit with jealousy and annoyance. The kid had rebelled against the scientist repeatedly and not been harmed for his insolence while slight deviations from Sinister’s orders had meant severe punishment to the marauders. Gambit had been given his own bedroom away from the others, while the marauders shared rooms and slept in bunks. The marauders could beat each other to a pulp and Sinister didn’t care but let them put one finger on the Cajun and his displeasure and retribution came fast. Some of the marauders had thought the kid slept with Sinister and joked about it thinking that was why he received such preferential treatment but Creed knew better. He had never found Sinister’s scent on the boy. Initially, he had thought that Sinister made allowances because Gambit was a master thief but eventually he ditched that theory. He had thought maybe Gambit was Sinister’s son but gave up that theory after his being allowed to take the Cajun in the lab while Essex watched. So he was back to trying to figure out what made the kid worth all the trouble.

Sinister considered the large mutant. He was not in the habit of answering his subordinates but Creed should be aware of what Remy could do if only to ensure that he could be relied on to help with the young mutant. “Remy is an empath,” he stated. “And though his ability to charge things might be strong and useful, his empathy can be used to completely control others, a far greater power. The one who controls the empath controls others.”

Creed considered this as he walked out the door.

Interlude Two

Remy had spent four days on the grounds of the estate, never once entering the mansion. Hank had visited him daily, always making him climb on a scale to monitor his weight, which was slowly climbing up thanks to Logan’s supervision and on the fourth morning Hank had declared that Remy could take up exercising again the next day and Logan had nodded his understanding. It was time to get the kid back in shape, especially if Sinister was after him. 

The four days had been somewhat lonely for Remy and more than a little depressing. Stormy and Jean visited him every day but Scott was busy and no other x-men came forward to see him. It hurt Remy that none of the others visited but he said nothing. 

On the fifth morning, Remy woke to the smell of sausage and came down to large breakfast as Logan nodded to the plate he had piled high with eggs and sausage. The Canadian had even put the hot sauce down beside Remy’s plate.

“Mornin’ Rem,” he said indicating the food as the empath grabbed a mug off the table and headed for the coffee pot. The pair had actually fallen into a companionable routine. Remy cooked dinner and Logan breakfast. The empath brought the coffee to the table and looked down at the plate knowing there was a lot more food on this plate than usual.

“What are you doin, Homme?” he asked indicating the full dish.

“I figure if ya gonna burn calories exercisin than ya gonna eat more calories,” Wolverine answered smugly and Remy smiled.

“How is dis Cajun goin to get down by de lake and exercise wit this much food in him Cher?” He eyed Logan waiting for a complaint.

“You ain’t goin to the lake kid. You and I are using the danger room. I arranged it for us.”

“Non,” Remy shook his head, his eyes widening as Logan leaned on the counter crossing his arms, watching the boy, his face set with determination. He was hoping to slowly work the kid back into the mansion and the first step in that process would be getting him there for a short amount of time with a guard.

“Yep, you and I are gonna work out there. Booked the room from eleven to one. Then we’ll come back here for lunch.” 

Remy shook his head again. “Dey don’ want me der and Remy don’ go where he not wanted unless he stealin.”

“I want you there. It’s the best place to train. Hank’s meetin us there at eleven to get one last look at ya before ya start training.” Logan turned ending the conversation and Remy looked at his back wondering what to say.

Outside, much closer to the mansion than the boathouse but still downwind of both, Creed watched just as he had the day before. The feline mutant was very well aware of who had come and gone the day before. He had seen McCoy with his medical bag, no surprise the kid had been sick, and Storm and Phoenix. He had watched as Angel and Rogue looked down at the boathouse with disapproval and he had watched Iceman and Jubilee worry as they watched Psylocke and Nightcrawler speaking.

It seemed to the feline that there were three factions: Storm, Wolverine, Phoenix, Cyclops, Beast and the Professor for the Cajun, Angel, Psyloch, Nightcrawler, Joseph and Rogue against the Cajun and Iceman, Jubillee, and Shadowcat undecided. The feline decided to watch for one more day and then head off to give the information to Sinister. 

At a quarter of eleven, he watched as Logan marched Remy out of the boathouse and started up to the mansion. Suddenly glad he had decided to wait another day, Sabretooth settled back to watch and wait.

On the path to the mansion, Remy stopped and Logan almost crashed into the kid with a growl. “Keep goin kid,” he gently pushed the Cajun forward. “We have to meet Hank.”

“Not a good idea, Logan,” Remy shook his head hesitating and turning to face the Canadian. “Please let me go back.”

“It’ll be okay Rem. Ya just have to get used to bein back.”

Remy didn’t answer but looked up at the house and drew in a deep breath to steady himself and moved forward his long legs carrying him up the stairs and inside with Logan hurrying to follow.

Outside Creed cursed. He would like to see the Cajun’s reception but there was no way he could get into the mansion undetected. Settling back he waited.

Inside, Remy, head held high, shoulders straight, walked down the hall in the direction of the danger room ignoring the shocked stares of Jubilee and Bobby as he went, his eyes glowing red with fire. To any observer, he was the epitome of calm security and remained so as he passed a smiling Stormy and a confused Nightcrawler. His only hesitation came as he passed the family room where Rogue stood watching him go with her mouth open. He paused there momentarily and then whipping his hair back in a defiant manner continued on his way until he entered the danger room, Logan behind him.

In the danger room, Remy glanced at Logan as the older mutant gave an approving smile. “Ya did good Gumbo,” he acknowledged as he watched Remy begin to warm up, stretching his long legs, palms flat on the floor before looking at Logan. 

“Aren’t you going to warm up Cher?”

Logan shook his head. “Nah, I might spar with ya later but I ain’t into gymnastics, kid.’ He reached out and ruffled Remy’s hair before moving over to the wall and leaning on it enjoying the show of Remy warming up. The kid had an incredible body and this was a chance for Logan to watch and admire it without anyone thinking it odd. Remy looked at him surprised by the older mutant’s actions. Normally, he would have a fit if someone tousled his hair like he was a small kid even if it was done to show affection, but for some reason he found himself wishing Logan would do it again. He was thinking of saying something about it even though he knew he really wouldn’t dare when Hank came bounding in.

“Greetings Gentlemen,” the large blue doctor came forward and stopped in front of Remy. “I am so glad Logan convinced you to join us here, Remy.” He glanced at the young man thoughtfully and turned to Logan with a smile. “Not too much today, Logan. I don’t want him over doing it.” He turned as Remy rolled his eyes and gave a sigh of frustration.

“Remy’s fine,” the Cajun complained looking at the two mutants. 

“And we intend to keep you that way,” Hank answered. “Not too much today.” He turned to Logan, “Scott wanted to speak with you.” Logan glanced at Remy and Hank understanding the concern added. “I’ll stay with him, you go” Logan nodded turning to Remy.

“You gonna be okay with Blue for a few minutes, Rem?”

“Oui,” Remy nodded distractedly, moving to stand on his hands as Blue moved against the wall watching him.

Grumbling, Logan walked out of the room and passed Warren barely noticing the winged mutant as he headed for Scott’s office. In the hall, Warren turned and watched him go thoughtfully. If Remy’s police dog wasn’t there then Remy wasn’t protected. With a smile, he turned and headed for the family room and Rogue.

Logan marched up and into Scott’s office, not bothering to knock and looked over at the x-men leader. “This better be important Cyke, I left the kid downstairs.”

“But Hank’s with him,” Cyke indicated a seat. “And Remy is just who I want to talk about.” Logan glanced over him as he sat down. Cyke had been supportive when Remy first arrived but hadn’t been around since and the x-man wondered what was up.

“Alright, talk,” Logan answered with a meaningful glance at the clock. The Canadian trusted Hank but preferred being near when Remy was in a place full of potential enemies.

“Remy’s empathy,” Scott stated.

“What about it?”

“It is stronger.” Logan nodded at the statement. When Logan didn’t make any further comments Scott leaned back in his seat with a dismal sigh. “Logan, we know Sinister was testing Remy probably to see his potential. Now we need to do the same thing. We have to know what Remy is capable of.”

“And just how do you propose doing that?” Logan already knew what Scott would say but he wanted the leader to say if for form’s sake before he jumped down the man’s throat.”

“The Professor could go in and analyze it.”

“Against Remy’s will?” Logan asked coldly and Scott looked down at the papers on his desk saying nothing. “That would make him kind of like Sinister, wouldn’t it, Cyke?”

“He wouldn’t be using Remy for his own purposes.” The leader dismissed the argument out of hand. “In any case, what we want is for you to convince Remy to let him do it.” Logan gave Cyke a sour look as Scott watched him. “He trusts you more than anyone else in the mansion,” the leader pointed out.

“And the reason is because he knows I won’t trick him or betray him,” Logan answered shaking his head. There was actually a lot more to the trust. Logan had taken the time and effort to get past the glib façade the kid gave the world and befriend the reserved Cajun hidden beneath. “Listen, I’ll ask him but I won’t push him. If he says no, as far as I’m concerned it is a no and I’ll defend him if any of you try to force him.” Scott nodded his agreement as his phone rang.

“Hello,” there was a pause. “Alright, Logan will be right down,” he hung up the phone and turned back to the Canadian. “Hank’s been called to the lab so you should go on down.” Logan rose, not liking the sound of that. Logan was not one to believe in coincidences and Hank getting called away from Remy sounded suspiciously like a trap. “Just let us know what Remy says,” Scott requested as Logan turned to the door.

Hank had been watching the Cajun make some amazingly agile flips and maneuvers when he received a call from the lab where Ro was picking up some broken beakers. “Hello, Henry,” she stated as soon as Hank picked up the phone in the danger room. “Were you working on some experiment? There seems to have been some damage here. Perhaps you should come here.” 

“I’ll be right there,” Hank answered, considering the Cajun who was somersaulting across the room. He didn’t want to leave Remy but he did need to get to the lab and find out what had happened. Holding the phone he dialed Scott’s office before turning back to the Cajun.

“Remy, I need to get to the lab. Logan will be right here. Will you be alright for a few moments by yourself?”

“Oui Henri,” he turned as Hank hurried out. Within seconds of his departure, Nightcrawler teleported in with Warren and Betsy and Rogue and Joseph phased in with Kitty through the wall. Suddenly Remy was surrounded, extreme anger passing through his weakened shields, debilitating in its intensity, as it hit into his heightened empathy making his muscles freeze with chill as the nerves in his body spasmed in pain at the onslaught. 

Remy looked around at the sea of cold faces, his eyes landing on Rogue, leaning into Joseph’s arms, almost ignoring the others as he watched her tighten her hold on the x-man. 

“We wanted to talk with you thief,” Warren said angrily from his left but Remy still kept his eyes on Rogue, “about leaving.” Remy didn’t answer but his eyes moved up from the arms holding her to Rogue’s face and saw a hint of something that looked like cruel amusement before she hid the expression behind the look of betrayed lover. 

“De Professor said Remy can stay here,” he answered softly, his voice filled with pain that not one of them acknowledged, his eyes never leaving the arms around Rogue as his own body began to shake with the cold emotions chilling him. “And dis is de Professor’s home.” 

“But you are destroying the team. Do you have to be so selfish?” Betsy asked from beside Warren. It was at that moment that Logan walked in, his claws extending as he saw the Cajun surrounded. In a glance, Logan could see just how much this was affecting Remy. He had gone sheet white and though he was trying to hide it, his body was shivering and Logan knew Remy well enough to know it wasn’t from fear. The kid was nearing collapse and in the back of his mind Wolverine decided Remy would have to work with the Professor if only to get him to the point that he could survive others’ emotions. He needed stronger shields so he would support Scott.

The others all looked at Logan, some in fear, others in anger, but it was Kitty who was closest to the Canadian who addressed the man. “Logan we’re just talking to Gambit. He’s hurting Rogue and…” Logan cut her off.

“Out all of you,” he demanded never raising his voice, but there was no doubt there was a threat in the tone and the slightest hint of a growl. Logan watched as the others decided what to do, but since they were not there to fight, or so they had told themselves and each other before entering, they began to shuffle away, Kurt simply teleporting out as the group broke up. Logan kept a keen eye on the x-men behind Remy as they moved past him and Joseph turned following Warren and Betsy with a tight arm around Rogue, holding her protectively. As Kitty turned to go, Logan stopped her, his claws retracting and a hand coming to rest on her arm. “Kitty, look at Remy,” he whispered softly as the Cajun stood still, his eyes closed, his head bent trying to deal with the emotions that had bombarded him. “Then go take a good look at Rogue and ask who is really being hurt.”

In surprise, Kitty looked up into Logan’s eyes. They had always been friends and she had always respected and to some extent admired Logan. “What are you saying Logan?” she asked.

“Take a good look at Rogue and consider the situation, Kit. You’re a good person; you and Kurt are not like the others who were in here. You’re not petty or mean. I think if you look at this situation with a cool, clear head ya might just see things differently.” Logan released her arm and turned to the Cajun as she glanced at Remy before leaving, her face thoughtful as she went looking for Rogue.

Logan slowly walked over to Remy and put an arm around his shoulders. “Rem,” he whispered but Remy shrugged knocking the arm off before turning and heading out the door, not stopping or looking at anyone, his hair practically flying behind him as he made a beeline out of the house and down the path, Logan following. 

Outside, Sabretooth watched as Remy’s long legs moved him quickly towards the boathouse, Logan hurrying to catch up. Near the boathouse, he finally did catch up with the Cajun and grabbed Remy’s arm stopping him and spinning the young man around to face him. “Rem,” he began but the Cajun shook his arm free.

“Told you it was a mistake,” he replied and turning entered the boathouse. Creed glanced around at this final scene and headed back into the woods. He’d seen enough.

Inside the boathouse, Logan turned and locked the door, knowing the Cajun needed a little privacy to get himself together and then walked over to the Cajun, placing an arm around his shoulders, glad that Remy didn’t try and push him away again as he pulled the young man close. “Remy,” he stroked the reddish brown hair lightly as he held the young man close, the young man’s shivering slowly ebbing as the cold emotions dissipated. “Not everyone feels that way. You know that,” he whispered letting his nose sniff at the glorious mane of hair, with its hint of spice. And then Logan did something he hadn’t planned on doing. As Remy looked at him, ready to tell Logan he was leaving, Logan moved his head forward, his lips capturing Remy’s as his hand slid up into Remy’s hair holding him close. He could feel Remy instantly freeze at the unexpected turn of events and then relax responding, before he released the young man’s lips.

Remy looked at Logan in shock, wondering if his charm had broken free and if Logan would gut him but the look on the Canadian’s face was not so much lustful as affectionate. “Logan,” he started, “what?”

“I have wanted to do that for a long time Cajun,” Logan answered amused as he caught a sudden scent of arousal and fear coming off the Cajun at the answer.

“But de others, Logan, dey will…” Logan cut him off.

“You know what yer problem is Cajun. Ya talk too much,” he answered pulling Remy’s head close and demanding another kiss, this time, insistently pushing into the empath’s mouth to taste him. Remy surrendered, his body responding to Logan’s, his fingers tightening in Logan’s shirt as the Canadian took his time exploring the inside of Remy’s mouth, dueling with the young man’s tongue. When he finally pulled back, Remy was completely breathless, and somewhat flustered by the sudden turn of events, his whole body leaning on the Canadian’s for support as Logan kissed a path to his earlobe and sucked gently. Remy gave a small moan of pleasure though Wolverine could tell the arousal was still tinged with a touch of fear as Logan nipped lightly at the lobe. “Remy,” Logan whispered as he nuzzled at his neck. “There’s someone at the door.’

“Dey can go away,” Remy answered his voice heavy with lust and need This was what he wanted, what the old woman said he was fated for, what he needed and never believed he would ever have. He didn’t want this to stop, it might not start again but Logan released the Cajun with a chuckle and leaving him standing in the middle of the room slightly dazed, walked to the door unlocking it and opening it to admit Storm.

“Hello Logan,” she said staring at Remy’s back as the empath tried to pull himself back together and ignore the physical stirrings tingling throughout his body. “I heard there was a problem in the danger room and I came to see how Remy is.”

Logan indicated the young man who was quickly running a hand through his hair trying to regain his balance. He couldn’t switch his emotions on and off very quickly and didn’t want Ro to know how aroused he truly was. “He’s just a little flustered Ro,” Logan answered smugly as Remy took a deep breath before turning with a smile.

“Hi Stormy,” he greeted as Ro came forward to hug him.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “I heard there was a problem in the danger room.”

“Oui,” he answered, his eyes going back to stare at Logan again and Ro had the strangest feeling she had interrupted something.

“Yeah, nothing physical happened, but our discontented team made their feelings known at the Cajun’s expense,” Logan answered from the near the door. “What the kid needs is some time in bed,” he added with a smirk. “It would do him a world of good.” At the idea of bed and what it might entail, Remy felt his body stir again and he dropped his eyes letting his bangs fall in front of his face as he felt a blush rising over his cheeks.

“Are you sick?” Ro reached a hand up to touch the empath’s head. “Should I call Henry?”

“Non, Remy jus tired Cherie.”

“Why don’t we have lunch and then you can take a nap.”

“Non, Remy had a big breakfast. Wolvie,” he shot a glance at Logan daring him to counter the statement, “made me eat too much. Dis Cajun needs to skip lunch. Mais will eat an early dinner.” He paused; he loved his Stormy but right now he needed her gone. “Why don you come back and we can eat dinner together, non?” 

“If you wish, Remy,” she turned towards the door but was stopped by Logan.

“Ro,” he said so quietly that Remy wouldn’t hear though the Cajun watched him suspiciously, “see if ya can dig up a bottle of chilled champagne and bring it back.”

“Is there something to celebrate?” she asked even more confused.

“There might be.” 

She left shaking her head.

Logan closed the door and turned the lock before looking back at the Cajun. Remy stood before him nervously, biting his lower lip and watching the Canadian, not sure of anything that might or might not happen as Wolverine closed the distance, but hopeful and excited in a way that Logan hadn’t seen in a long time. Even before Antarctica, Remy hadn’t seemed this happy and Logan welcomed the return of that playful look that was lighting his face. And then Remy was in Logan’s arms and Logan kissed him before letting his tongue lick the young man’s neck. “Should we go upstairs Rem? We did say something to Ro about bed.”

“Oui,” Remy answered weakly, lust and excitement warring within him, making him in turns nervous and energized as Logan took his hand and headed upstairs leading the Cajun into the bedroom the Canadian was using. And then they were grabbing each other, both vying for dominance as they ripped at each other’s clothes, kissing, biting and scratching in their haste as they rolled around on the bed scattering the blankets and sheets. But in such a small space with neither using their mutant powers there could be only one outcome. Logan, stronger and heavier finally pinned Remy down on the bed, holding the empath’s thin wrists in his stronger hands and looked into brilliant red eyes.

“Do you want this Rem?” he asked and the Cajun nodded his eyes heavy with lust and need as Logan leaned down to kiss him again, capturing the soft lips as he released the empath’s wrists to slide a hand up and down Remy’s already hard cock making the empath squirm and moan beneath him, as Remy’s cock began to leak pre-cum. 

Logan slid over the empath’s slender body tracing a soft path down the young man, licking his neck and the hollow base of his throat and then sliding his tongue lower onto the hard peaks of Remy’s nipples sucking and biting before letting his tongue slide down again to lap at the sensitive area just above Remy’s groin. In response, Remy cried out and spread his legs wide, his fingers grasping and clawing at the sheets as Logan’s hand continued to slide up and down the swollen shaft as he moved down and let his tongue lick the head of Remy’s penis, sliding into the slit. Remy’s command of English was lost in that moment and all he could do was make small sounds of pleasure, desire and need. And then Logan was reaching for lubricant and the empath could feel fingers sliding in and out of him, preparing him, scissoring him to relax and open him before something hard pressed against the tight ring of muscle. 

Looking down he could see Logan positioned between his legs and Remy raised his hips to help accommodate the Canadian as Logan slid slowly into the Cajun. The empath cried out panting and grasping Logan’s arms as he was filled, trying to relax as Logan’s large cock spread him but the pain was quickly forgotten as the Canadian shifted and hit Remy’s prostate. With a cry, Remy arched up and Logan began an easy rhythm, hitting Remy’s sweet spot with each stroke. In minutes, Remy began writhing pushing up and needing Logan to move faster and Wolverine smiled holding down the young man’s hips as he kept his easy pace. As Remy began to whine with need, Logan finally began to thrust harder and faster and minutes later the Cajun screamed Logan’s name as he came, his sperm spreading across himself and Logan as his muscles contracted tightening around Logan and pushing the older mutant over the edge. With a cry of his own, Logan pushed deep into Remy and spilled his seed before carefully pulling out of the trembling Cajun. Collapsing next to Remy, Logan gently closed his arms around the empath and pulled him into his embrace. Reaching out Logan grabbed a blanket to cover the mutant’s sweat drenched and sated body and relaxed as Remy drifted in the orgasmic aftershock his eyes closing.

Twenty minutes later the empath stirred and looked at the man holding him and Logan could smell fear emanating from the kid. “Logan,” he whispered softly, not wanting to say anything, just wanting to enjoy being with Wolverine, but he knew he needed to clear the air. “If dis was because of da charm, I didn’ mean to do it. Wanted you for a long time but I wouldn’ use da charm.”

“It wasn’t,” Logan replied running a hand over Remy’s soft shoulder and moving down to trace a path down his arm.

“You don’ know dat for sure Cher.”

“Yeah, I do,” Logan answered with a smile. “I first realized I wanted you when I went to look for you. So unless yer charm worked from long distance it ain’t yer charm.”

Remy’s face brightened at the statement and he snuggled in closer to Wolverine but Logan caught his chin and raised his eyes. “Rem,” he began. “There is one thing you have to think about. You’re a beautiful young man and I’m old enough to be your grandfather. You really should be…”

Remy stopped Logan before he could finish. “Cher, do you know what your problem is. You talk too much,” he answered and leaned over to kiss Logan before settling against him sleepily. “Going to take a nap,” he said quietly. “Den make dinner.” Remy closed his eyes feeling relaxed for the first time since Antarctica.

A half an hour later, Logan slipped out of bed, covering the sleeping empath before taking a quick shower and going down the stairs. Sitting outside in the afternoon sun he looked out at the lake and lit a cigar, a can of beer beside him as he considered what had happened that morning. He hadn’t meant to make a move on the Cajun but having Remy so close had finally taken its toll but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to regret what had happened. The sex had been phenomenal and the empath was now claimed and happy to be claimed. Contentedly, Logan sat back tilting his chair and opening a beer. He was still sitting there enjoying a smoke and debating whether or not to go in and get another beer when Kitty came wandering down to the boathouse and sat down on the steps. Logan watched her as she turned and smiled at him.

“Logan,” she began. “I came to apologize to Remy. I guess you were right. It’s Remy we’re hurting.” Logan nodded. 

“I know Remy would be happy to hear that but he’s asleep right now. Maybe, you should talk to him later.” 

She nodded her agreement. “I’ll come back after dinner,” she agreed. “And I’ll bring Jubilee with me.” She looked at Logan. “Thanks for helping me see it. I’d hate to hurt Remy for no reason.” Standing she walked back up to the house.

“That’s my girl,” Logan smiled and headed back inside going into the kitchen and getting a beer before glancing through the fridge. The kid was asleep and dinner needed to get started and so Logan began pulling out foods, tossing down a couple of steaks for Remy and himself and then a load of vegetables for the vegetarian Ro. He was just beginning to organize everything when Remy came into the kitchen.

“I cook dinner, Wolvie,” he said softly.

“Then ya better get started kid cause Ro will be comin soon and she’s bringin champagne.”

“Champagne?”

“Yep, so we can celebrate us.” 

Remy hesitated and Logan glanced over at him. “Cher, de x-men dey won’ be happy bout dis. Dey may turn on you. Don’ want to be responsible for dat.” 

Logan shook his head before pulling Remy close and kissing him.“I keep telllin ya Cajun. Ya talk too much.”


	10. Plans

Victor Creed left the x-men mansion quietly after watching Remy return to the boathouse and made his way back to what he would call civilization. He moved slowly, taking his time as he headed west to Essex’ new “secret” base. The scientist had not been overly happy about the destruction the kid had caused before he left, or about having to pack up and move somewhere else in case LeBeau told the x-men where the base was, but now that everything was moved Essex had settled into his usual routines.

Arriving in mid-afternoon after two days of covert traveling, he was immediately called into Sinister’s office and came in to report on his findings. Taking a seat he looked at the scientist sitting across the desk as Essex sat back, a notepad at the ready in front of him, and a laptop at his side, his red eyes aglow with interest.

“Report,” was all he said in a silky low voice as Creed sat down, Sinister’s left hand absently doodling on the paper as he waited to hear the analysis he had sent for. 

Creed looked into the red eyes thoughtfully. Sinister knew he was no fool and valued his opinions, something some of the others he had worked with didn’t. Most saw him as a powerful thoughtless giant, incapable of having an original idea, but Sinister knew better and Creed respected that. “Wolverine is watching over him but the only visitors the kid had were Phoenix and Storm. The other x-men were either indifferent, waiting to see what would happen or distrustful of the kid.”

“Xavier didn’t visit?” Sinister asked in surprise.

“Not that I saw in the two days I was there, but I can’t say what he did before I got there or after I left. Though it’s likely he did visit. Remy’s staying in his boathouse.” He paused thoughtfully for a moment and Sinister waited patiently. He wanted intelligent responses and knew Creed was organizing his thoughts. “The kid had a fight with some of the x-men when he went to do some exercise in the mansion.” Creed smiled as he continued. “He didn’t want to go to the mansion, I guess he knew he wouldn’t be welcome, but Wolverine made him and the kid came out upset as all hell so some of the x-men definitely don’t want him there.”

“Interesting,’ Sinister made some small notes. “So he’s in the boathouse.” He watched Creed nod. “Is that to protect him or the others?” he mused. It wasn’t a question and Sabretooth didn’t bother trying to answer it. “And Wolverine is the guard or guardian. Tell me about Wolverine.” Creed raised an eyebrow watching the geneticist.

“Definitely, the guardian; he’s watching over the kid and anyone who tries to get near the kid has to get past him. If you had told me to get Gambit, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without a fight. The kid was never left alone. If Wolverine wasn’t with him he made sure another x-man was.” Sinister nodded at this but Creed shook his head continuing. “At a guess, I would say Xavier, Storm, Beast and Phoenix all protect and watch over the kid and Rogue, Psylocke, Angel and Joseph are definitely against him. The others…” he shrugged, “could be swayed but I think it more likely Wolverine would be the one to sway them.”

“Why?”

“Angel may be wealthy but he’s a stuck up bastard and Wolverine is respected,” Creed answered. There was for all this dislike a grudging respect in the voice. Creed might not like Wolverine but he recognized the man was a damn good fighter. “The younger ones look up to him.” Sinister nodded his agreement, his pen still doodling across the page as he considered the information.

“And how is Remy?” Sinister asked wanting to know just how vulnerable the empath could be. After all Remy would be the prize in this little game.

“He’s depressed over this mess. To some extent keeping isolated. I would almost say he’s hiding at the boathouse.” Creed didn’t continue but stared at Essex wondering what more the boss would want. “But he does look better,” he added as an afterthought. 

“No doubt thanks to Dr. McCoy.” Sinister nodded. “He is, for all his annoying faults, a brilliant doctor.” He leaned forward considering the feline thoughtfully. He was going to have to get Remy back but having him with the x-men did complicate matters. It was so much easier when the only one who would worry about the boy was his father.

“Very well,” he waved a hand. “I’ll consider your report and then decide on action.” Creed nodded and rose to leave but Sinister stopped him. “If you do go out, leave word where I can reach you. We will probably move on this soon. I want Remy before he gains allies.” The feline nodded exiting the room.

Sinister watched Creed leave and then sat back thoughtfully, an elbow on his desk, his chin resting on his hand. It was really a shame that Remy had gotten away. It would be so much easier if he hadn’t. Still the fact that he had gotten away might be useful. The scientist had removed all the lovely little blocks he had placed on Remy’s empathy and no doubt the emotional roller coaster ride the x-men’s opposing emotions had induced had helped push the empath to his full potential by bombarding him with opposing emotions. And if Xavier wasn’t helping the boy with the blocks, which just might be the case since he wasn’t visiting the empath daily, well he would be ready for use. It would just be a matter of controlling Remy. Sinister considered this, acknowledging that controlling the Cajun was not an easy task. Remy had never accepted control, not even when he had been held before the Morlock incident and he had been both younger and less jaded then. The Cajun would never admit it, but he had been afraid of Creed and Sinister back then though the empath would never allow fear to stop him. Now, hatred fueled his actions and kept the fear at bay and made him even harder to control. 

Sinister considered his actions carefully. The scientist had to admit he didn’t have a clue how he would control Remy’s empathy. It would be a painful, time consuming process, but control it he would need to. During Remy’s recent short stint in the lab the scientist had come to accept that he couldn’t duplicate the empath’s abilities. Not because of the trickiness of the DNA that was nothing more than a puzzle to be sorted out, but rather because the empathy required a degree of sensitivity that he couldn’t handle. That was why he hadn’t gone into a complete rage at the loss of his notes. That and the fact that he was sure Remy had kept a copy. Remy was not a fool despite that ridiculous Cajun drawl he liked to spout. It was just one more piece of camouflage for the boy.

Controlling Remy would be another matter entirely. He would need Creed as a threat and punishment tool but Essex knew he would also need someone the boy could turn to for support, someone who could later be used to control the Cajun. Thinking it through Sinister had to admit Remy had not really made friends among the Marauders. The closest he had come to a friend had been Scalphunter and they had not been all that close. Even among the x-men, if what he had heard was true, Remy had few friends. He counted three: Rogue who had betrayed him, Wolverine and Storm. If he grabbed Wolverine or Storm he could probably use one of them as a manipulative tool but the x-men would be far more inclined to work at getting them back, especially the weather controlling mutant. Still, there was something about Wolverine that nagged at the back of the scientist’s head. The boy had always kept close to the feral mutant and Sinister suspected that Remy might be attracted to the man. In the past, Remy had relationships with both males and females and Wolverine was everything the boy wanted in a partner. Wolverine was strong, stable and secure. Perhaps Wolverine could be used against Remy. 

Once he had the empath he would consider the best way to use Creed and maybe Wolverine. With Creed, as long as he tamed some of his appetites, his ability to satisfy the boy could be used as a means of humiliation and degradation without doing much harm. And despite the fact that the thief was a pain in the ass brat, Essex did not want Remy harmed. There was something to be said for having a master thief and an empath in his employ. And something else staid the geneticist’s hand. Perhaps, it was the empathy itself that kept Sinister from wanting to harm Remy, he had after all explored it thoroughly to place the blocks. Perhaps it was Remy’s inability to give up in a hopeless situation despite ludicrous odds against him. Or perhaps, if he and his wife had produced an heir, he suspected the child would be rather like Remy in temperament and looks. Sinister didn’t have a real answer why he kept the boy from harm but he would continue to do so even as he kept him incarcerated.

Leaving the theorizing behind, Sinister moved back to what was the first step in the plan. There was only one thing to do, grab Remy from right under the noses of the x-men and that would take a little bit of finesse and a great deal of force.

Sinister tapped into the computer pulling up a map of Xavier’s mansion and considering the layout as he ripped off the top sheet of paper from the pad, tossing it to the side as he began to seriously plan. He would have to see to it that some of the x-men were occupied elsewhere when he sent in a team to grab the boy. After that it would be a matter of getting the boy to the base undetected and maybe, grabbing Wolverine as well or failing at that, setting a trail for the feral mutant to follow.


	11. The Party

Storm was somewhat surprised by the request for champagne, but honored it, getting two bottles of bubbly as well as a chocolate cheese cake. After all, if there was something to celebrate than chocolate and cheese cake would be just as important as bubbling wine. Carrying the items out of the mansion, she headed down to the boathouse still trying to figure what was going on as she made her way. 

At the door she knocked and Logan opened it, relieving her of the bottles as she placed a boxed cheese cake on the table. “What are we celebrating, Logan?” she asked seeing his relaxed features. Not that Logan looked old, he didn’t and most likely wouldn’t in her lifetime, but he looked as if he were ten years younger, smiling at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he produced an ice bucket and three long stemmed glasses before raising his voice and calling Remy into the room.

The Cajun entered from the kitchen, pulling his hair from the ponytail he had tied while cooking. “Hi Stormy,” he whispered in the soft Cajun twang and Storm took in a sharp breath. Remy looked glorious, relaxed and happy in a way she hadn’t seen in ages or so she thought as he came forward to kiss her. It was obvious that the change in attitude was affecting his physical appearance subtly, but it was there nonetheless, his hair seemed more lustrous, his eyes brighter, his face younger and the stress and pain lines were erased.

“In the name of the Goddess, what is going on?” she asked and Remy glanced from her to Logan who reached down and taking the first bottle popped the cork, the sound echoing through the room before he poured out three glasses. Handing the glasses around, Wolverine put the bottle in ice, before glancing at Remy with a raised eyebrow waiting expectantly.

“Cherie,” Remy smiled but turned slightly red as he glanced at Logan. “We, dat is, Logan and I, we…” he paused and Logan chuckled as she looked from one to the other, her suspicions growing as a smile began to play at the corner of her lips.

“We’re a couple, Ro,” Logan answered and Remy nodded as he held up his glass.

“To us, non?” he asked with just a twinge of nervousness. This was his beloved Stormy and he hoped she wouldn’t be disgusted by the nature of the relationship. But his smile grew as she smiled back and the three toasted swallowing the dry, cold drink before Storm put down her glass and gathered Remy and Logan in her arms.

“I am so happy for you.” She pushed back Remy’s hair and looked at his face. “This is so right; I’ve always known you would be good together.” She continued babbling on, tears of joy on her face as the three drank their glasses and then Remy, refilled glass in hand, returned to the kitchen to finish making dinner.

“How Logan?” she asked as she took a seat, Logan pouring more champagne and joining her.

“It just sort of happened Ro. I wanted him for a long time but couldn’t get over the fact that he was so young and then…” He was cut off by Remy entering the room.

“And den I kissed him,” Remy finished and Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Ya got that backwards, Rem. I kissed you.” The Cajun scowled in response, turning and winking at Storm and she smiled at the long absent and sorely missed playfulness that was returning.

“You da first to know,” he looked down, concern starting to crease his brow. “Not sure we should tell de others. Dey may turn on Wolvie.”

“Nonsense,” Ro answered. “Anyone who is important will be happy and anyone else can go to blazes.” She reached out her hand and Remy took it. “As long as you two are happy about it, the people who care about you will be too.” Remy smiled and nodded though he still seemed unsure before indicating the table.

“Dinner,” he announced and pulled Ro to her feet as Logan leaned forward to kiss the young man before picking up the ice bucket and heading for the table.

The dinner was a slow leisurely meal and though it took some work on Remy’s part to balance the different needs and styles, it appealed to all three mutants’ tastes. There were plenty of vegetables in delicate sauces for the vegetarian Stormy, there was a large slab of rare beef for the carnivore in Logan, and some hot spicy foods for the Cajun. They had already started the second bottle of champagne, Logan constantly refilling Remy’s glass and smiling as the young man became more and more tipsy and had cleared the dinner dishes, setting out dessert plates when there was a knock on the door. Remy looked up with a frown and turned to Logan.

“Rem, why don’t you get that,” he answered as he placed a pot of coffee down on the table. Remy couldn’t guess who might be at the door but he nodded and turned to it, sobering up a bit.

Opening the door, he blinked. On the steps were Jubilee, Kitty and Bobby, all watching him with nervous smiles before the two girls grabbed Remy hugging him as they greeted the empath.

“Hello, Remy,” Kitty began, her arms tight around his chest. “I came to apologize for this morning. I would never want to hurt you.” 

“And I came with her because I care about you and I’m not going to let problems at the mansion get between us,” Jubilee added also hugging his chest. Remy looked down at them in shock but smiled seeing the two girls holding tight to him and slowly drew his arms around them before looking up at Bobby.

“You goin to hug me too, homme?” he asked and Bobby shook his head extending his hand.

“No but you’re a teammate and I decided, as a teammate, I should come and tell you that you belong at the mansion, not down here.” Remy released his hold on the girls and took Bobby’s offered hand.

“Tanks, Bobby. Right now dis Cajun tinks it better for everyone if he stays here but dat don mean you can’ come here. Oui?” Remy indicated they should all enter and the girls, releasing their hold on the empath walked in and looked at the table, realizing they were still at dinner, or more correctly at dessert, seeing the large cake with dark chocolate candy spirals sticking out of it.

“We shouldn’t interrupt,” Kitty turned but Storm watching with a smile shook her head.

“This is a large chocolate cheese cake,” she emphasized the word chocolate, “and there’s plenty for everyone. Join us.”

“You sure?” Jubilee answered eyeing the cake even as she took a seat. Logan smiled and disappeared into the kitchen, returning with more plates as Bobby and Remy came to the table, Bobby’s arm on Remy’s shoulder.

“I knew Kitty and Jubilee were comin by this evening but I am glad to see you, Ice Cube,” Logan commented as he handed Storm a knife.

“I’ve been meaning to come down and see Remy,” Bobby admitted. “And when I heard the girls telling Rogue they were coming here tonight, I just figured I’d join the party.” He eyed the cake as he moved to sit at the table. “Glad I did.”

“What did Rogue say?” Remy asked his voice reflecting some nervousness as he took a seat and Logan refilled his champagne glass for the sixth time killing the second bottle in the process. He eyed the drink and Logan but lifted it nonetheless. It would be a shame to waste good champagne.

Bobby looked up, making a dramatic pose, a hand to his heart, as he stood at the table. “Go on, betray me,” he said in his not quite perfect imitation of the southern belle’s voice before flopping into a chair. He eyed Remy. “She’s pissed at all three of us but who cares. She’s being unreasonable; she’ll get over it, eventually.” He gave Remy a wink as he accepted a piece of cake, Kitty and Jubilee giggling.

“That is just what she did,” Jubilee agreed as Storm tried to look politely interested, hiding her amusement at a fellow x-men’s teasing, while Remy hid a smiled beneath his bangs and Logan laughed aloud. “So what is the cake for?” Jubilee continued. “Are we celebrating something?” She quickly considered the date. It wasn’t Storm’s birthday and nobody knew when Remy’s or Logan’s birthdays were. Subsequently, the two never celebrated. Anyway, there was no happy birthday on the cake.

At the question, Storm glanced at Remy wondering what he would say as Logan sat back with a smug look, equally interested in the response. Personally, Logan would have liked nothing more than to shout to the world that Remy was his lover. After all, who wouldn’t want to claim such a beautiful creature but Remy was nervous about the impact of the announcement and Logan with an evilly wicked streak decided to watch his young lover squirm.

“We’re jus happy dat we are friends, non?” Remy answered looking at the three arrivals with a charming smile, though his cheeks were turning slightly red.

“That’s the reason for cake and champagne?” Kitty asked dubiously as Bobby looked over Remy’s face noticing he was blushing. 

Bobby was slightly older than Remy and the two had gone out drinking once or ten times with the other x-men males, and Bobby knew how well the Cajun could hold his drink – except champagne. Put a little champagne in the empath and he lost his usual control. So the icy x-men knew that Remy, who normally had a gilded tongue and could talk his way out of any situation, was having some trouble explaining the cake and champagne and the blush creeping up on his face was genuine. Glancing around thoughtfully, he began to consider what he knew of Remy and possible reasons for the small celebration and his eyes landed on Logan, sitting back in the chair watching Remy with amusement. Remy had always been interested in Logan, he had, in fact, shown as much interest in Logan as Rogue while with the team and Bobby laughed sitting back as he guessed what the celebration was really about.

Remy glanced at Bobby his color turning even brighter as he realized Bobby guessed the real reason for the celebration but Bobby didn’t look at all upset. “Tell them, Remy,” Bobby said softly. “It will make both of them happy,” the ice man’s eyes went to Logan. “I know I’m happy for both of you.” Logan glanced back at Bobby and gave him something rarely seen except by a handful of x-men, a smile of friendship and approval. 

The girls turned to Bobby bewildered as Remy looked down at his cake. “What’s going on?” Jubilee asked realizing she and Kitty were missing a whole conversation. Remy glanced at Bobby and received an encouraging nod and looked to the two girls before reaching out a hand to Logan who leaned forward to take it.

“Logan and I are lovers,” he whispered watching their faces and lowering his shields slightly so he could feel the responses in his newly strengthened empathy. He could feel shock, a hint of jealousy (and he wondered was that directed at him or Logan), and then happiness, approval and finally love coming from the girls, the various sensations running through him and warming him completely but making him dizzy at the same time.

Jubilee was up out of her seat hugging him and asking a million questions in a second and Remy could feel the world spinning from the emotions and champagne as Logan stood and walking over rested a hand on the young man’s shoulder, taking over the answering as Remy stammered before looking to him for help. It took almost twenty minutes until the girls had the story and though Bobby wasn’t interested in the romantic aspects they focused on every word, savoring the romantic elements. By the time Logan finished answering and explaining Remy had reigned in his empathy realizing he couldn’t afford to lower his shields any more. 

The rest of the evening went well, the six mutants enjoying each other’s company before the four left for the mansion with lots of hugs and kisses for the lovers.

After waving them off and closing the door, Logan took Remy in his arms. “You know by morning, the whole mansion will know what’s goin on? Bobby and Jubilee can’t keep a secret.” He watched the empath nod as Remy wrapped his arms around his lover, at the moment, not caring as Logan ran his fingers down the soft skin of his face in a gentle caress. 

“Do you care dat the de others know?” Remy asked as he leaned into the caress, his lips kissing Logan’s fingers. He already knew the answer but wanted to hear it from his lover anyway.

“Me,” Logan snorted before letting his tongue lick at Remy’s neck, drawing a soft moan from the younger man. “Hell, no! I’m the one gettin the better end of this deal.” He pulled Remy into a tighter embrace, his crotch rubbing against Remy. “What do you say we forget about the dishes and head up to bed?” he asked feeling his pants getting uncomfortably tight even as he noticed the bulge in Remy’s. 

“Remy will do them in the morning,” the empath agreed and Logan, who knew he would be up at least an hour or two before the Cajun nodded knowing they would be long gone before the empath got out of bed. But right now he had better things to do and taking Remy’s hand headed up the stairs.

Logan had actually over estimated the amount of time it would take for everyone to find out about the budding relationship. Twenty minutes after their arrival, the entire team from the Professor in his office to Hank in the lab knew about the couple. The Professor had smiled indulgently; glad the two loners had found each other; Jean didn’t react surprised at all. It seemed to Bobby who passed the news to her that she expected it and applauded happily. Scott looked at his wife in total bewilderment when he entered the room just after Bobby finished telling Jean and was informed, not because Scott didn’t understand the mechanics but because he never would have expected it. Hank had smiled with relief when Jubilee bounced in the lab and announced the news and had even called down to the boathouse to congratulate the pair, getting off the phone quickly when he realized he was interrupting something.

However, there were some not quite as pleased. Nightcrawler had disapproved of two men sharing a relationship but he would never say so. It was their choice and he would respect their right to choose, even if he personally felt it was wrong. Warren had sneered in disgust, declaring he always knew Logan was an animal and Remy a slut. Betsy had seemed more surprised than disgusted, but had kept her face neutral while standing beside her lover. And Rogue had screamed before throwing herself into her new lover’s arms and crying that Remy had never loved her but only used her. 

Still, life was quiet at the mansion, no one expecting the events that would occur just four days later…


	12. Battles

Logan and Remy had just finished their lunch when the Canadian received a call to the mansion. Listening on the phone, he nodded seeming none too pleased and then hung up and looked at Remy. The Cajun waited expectantly and Logan smiled knowing Remy would not like the fact that he was being left behind as the team mobilized. Hank had been checking the young man periodically and the Cajun was going to the mansion to use the Danger Room almost daily with Logan but though physically he was much improved, until his empathy was straightened out he would not be allowed on active duty. Remy had tried to protest but Hank had pointed out that because the empath was happy the rest of the x-men were affected and in better than normal spirits and only Hank, the Professor, Scott, and Logan knew why. Remy had argued that feeling good was not a bad thing and Hank shook his head.

“Remy,” he began gently. “What happens when, in the heat of battle, you get angry? You could cause a blood bath if your empathy’s not under control. I’m sorry but no.” And Remy had known Hank was right. It was what finally made the Acadian give in; tentatively agreeing to work with the Professor, though he had yet to actually do more than look across a desk at Charles Xavier. 

“We’re off on a mission, Rem,” he rose dropping his napkin. “FOH has somethin goin on in Pennsylvania and we gotta go.” He watched the empath look down, knowing Remy felt useless on the inactive list and that he would remain there until he resolved his issues with his empathy. It was the uselessness that finally led him to the Professor’s door. “Rogue, Scott, Bobby and Kitty are goin so Storm can keep ya company if ya miss me too much.” 

Remy gave no answer but stared up at Logan with longing. He wanted to go with his lover. Bending down, Logan gave Remy a quick kiss and turned to the door, a glance and smile for his young lover before disappearing.

The blackbird took off just 15 minutes later, the team having received intel that there were FOH weapons in a warehouse in a suburb of Pittsburgh and that the group was getting ready for a major assault. As they traveled, they reviewed the plans for getting into the warehouse and securing the weapons. “Too bad Gambit’s not coming with us,” Bobby said to the group, ignoring Rogue’s scowl in response. He wasn’t sure why the Cajun was still on the inactive list. They had sparred just the day before and Remy had done pretty well. “He’d be a wiz at getting in unobserved.” Scott had agreed but he knew Hank had said no and why and he had to go along with the doctor’s decision. 

Once the blackbird landed, the group spread out and moved around the building observing it from various angles looking for any signs of occupancy or traps. The place seemed innocuous, a square gray building, with small windows high up and a large door. There were no signs of life, no tracks on the ground indicating movement and the team cautiously entered the building from three different directions. Rogue and Bobby went through the roof looking for a way in from above, Kitty and Scott through the wall, phasing in and Logan through the front door. Just inside, Wolverine stopped and looked around letting his enhanced senses take over. He knew immediately something was wrong and growled a warning to the team through the comlink as he released his claws turning and surveying the room, which was piled high with crates before his eyes landed on a shrouded figure behind some boxes to the right. Moving towards the aisle of boxes, Wolverine’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Scalphunter. 

“Wolverine,” the armed mutant smiled but wisely kept his distance from the Canadian’s claws. “I see you’ve found our warehouse.” He moved forward slowly circling around Wolverine, nodding to another figure who emerged from behind other crates circling in the opposite direction trying to distract the feral mutant.

Wolverine glanced at the second figure, immediately recognizing Blockbuster as he growled moving into a better position so neither mutant was behind him as Kitty and Scott emerged through the wall already on the alert thanks to Logan’s warning. 

“Logan,” Scott called a warning as he noticed Scrambler and Arclight moving out of the shadows toward the Canadian. Scalphunter turned seeing the other team members emerge before he nodded to Arclight who slammed her hands together causing an avalanche of crates on Scott and Kitty. Before they could land, Bobby coming through a skylight threw a wall of ice between the crates and the x-men and Kitty and Scott moved forward, Scott’s optical blast shooting at Blockbuster who dodged the shot before diving at the x-men leader as Scalphunter’s attention returned to Wolverine.

Scott barely had time to react as the large bulk of the man slammed into him sending him flying back against the wall, his head smashing against it with a resounding crack. Sliding down the wall, consciousness fading fast, Scott knew he would be dead if he didn’t do something and forced his leaden arms to respond to his needs. Lifting his glasses the x-men leader shot at a quick blast at the mutant standing over him before closing his eyes as the world went gray. 

Blockbuster went down with a howl of pain practically falling on Kitty who phased through the floor just in time to avoid the man’s massive bulk as Arclight sent another series of shock waves through the room knocking over Bobby and Rogue as they came down from above. 

Across the room, Scalphunter looked over at Wolverine aware that he couldn’t get close enough to take the mutant by force and he was fast running out of time. In another minute the other x-men would be free of the crates and turning towards him. Sinister had said should Wolverine go with the team to Pittsburgh, Scalphunter should bring him back. If he stayed in New York, Sinister and Creed would get him. “I’m surprised you don’t want to come with us,” he stated as Rogue grabbed falling crates to keep herself and Bobby from being buried and crushed. “We have a friend of yours.” He watched Logan’s narrowed eyes. “While you were chasing us, Sinister and Creed were getting Gambit.”

“Why should I believe you?” Logan answered and Scalphunter shrugged. 

“This was a mere diversion.” He turned as a tesseract opened. “Sinister wants his pet back. It’s your one chance to go after him,” he signaled Arclight to jump through and she did as Scrambler came up behind Logan. “Otherwise Gambit faces Sinister and Creed alone.” It didn’t take Logan more than a second to consider his options. He could tell Scalphunter wasn’t lying and he retracted his claws as Scrambler reached out grabbing him and disrupting his nervous system. Wolverine went limp and Scalphunter dragged him through the tesseract, as Kitty came running up trying to jump through as well. But it closed before she could and she stood staring at where moments before Wolverine had stood as Bobby and Rogue emerged from the small avalanche. 

The two x-men turned looking for their enemies but stopped. Blockbuster was still there, or more correctly the clone of Blockbuster was there but the others were gone: Scrambler, Arclight, Scalphunter and with them Wolverine. “Where’s Wolverine?” Bobby asked Kitty and she turned heading over to help Scott.

“Sinister’s got him,” she whispered in a small scared voice.

…

As Logan faced off against Scalphunter, Remy was having problems of his own. After Logan left, he had cleaned up the lunch before heading down to the lake to stare uselessly at the water. He hated being on the inactive list and watching his lover go off unprotected. Gambit had always watched Wolverine’s back in battle and despite his recent problems, physical and mental, Gambit was a deadly and well trained fighter and all the x-men knew it. He had not been liked by all the x-men, but he had always been respected for his skill. 

With a sigh of resignation, he realized he would have to do more than look at the Professor if he wanted to get his shields in order so he could return to duty. He would have to cooperate a bit more but the idea of letting Xavier in his head bothered the mutant. Throwing another stone in the lake, he wondered why Sinister had destroyed his shields and what his plans might be. It came as no surprise that Sinister might want to use his empathy; Remy had worried about that scenario the entire time he had been with Essex before the Morlocks but he had assumed that Sinister, like most others, had been interested in his more blatant abilities: charging things and stealing. The Acadian was still considering these things and how he would relax enough to let Xavier in his head when he heard shouts from the mansion. He turned, stones in his hand, and looked up at the main house in time to see shurikens flying at Storm and Jean, Storm’s powers blowing them back as Jean turned to face Vertigo.

Not even thinking he was on the inactive duty list he started forward as Hank emerged and joined the fray, Harpoon and Prism attacking the x-men up by the mansion. He started forward to help, but went down with a gasp as Sabretooth’s body crashed into him. “Sorry kid,” he growled, “but this whole thing was done to get you back.” As Sabretooth spoke, he grabbed Remy’s arm hauling the stunned empath to his feet but Remy wasn’t sick and weak as he faced off against the feline this time and shook his head clear as he looked at his enemy. Spinning and moving faster than Sabretooth could follow, he inched back and brought his foot up to connect with Sabretooth’s groin making the larger mutant release him and double over in pain.

“Not going wit you,” he announced aiming a blow to the side of the mutant’s head, dropping him and turning again for the mansion to help his teammates. 

“But I think you are Remy,” a soft voice answered and the Cajun went white turning to face Sinister, the pebble in his hand starting to glow as he looked at the scientist. Sinister noticed the glowing stone as he started forward and Remy backed slowly away but the scientist had shields to keep the blast from affecting him and all he needed to do was keep Remy distracted for a few minutes and Creed would grab him. The feline mutant was already recovering thanks to his healing factor. “Did you really think I would allow the x-men to keep me from getting you back?” he asked stepping closer but still maneuvering away from Creed so Remy’s back was to the mutant. “You underestimate me,” he stated lecturing before springing forward. Remy jumped back his hand letting the pebble fly as he turned to move into a better position and crashed into the wall of Creed.

“Non,” it was a cry of denial as the other mutant pinned Remy’s arms, kicking his feet apart so he couldn’t kick out. Remy knew he was caught. He might stand a chance against one of these two mutants but not both working in tandem. Struggling anyway, he fought the hold causing Creed to grunt with effort as Sinister came forward with a prepared needle.

“This will quiet him,” he announced grabbing Remy’s arm and holding it still as he injected the contents of the syringe before titling the empath’s chin up to look at Remy’s eyes as the empath’s pupils dilated and glazed over. Remy stopped struggling and Creed tightened his hold on the Cajun to keep him from falling.

Leaning closer, Creed looked at the young man for a minute, his nose running over Remy’s neck and then looked to Sinister. “Wolverine is his lover,” he stated with a growl, some part of him annoyed that Wolverine had touched something he had claimed. “I can smell Wolverine all over him.”

“That will make Wolverine very useful,” Sinister answered ignoring Sabretooth’s anger as he opened a tesseract. 

“What about the others?” Creed indicated the Marauders up at the mansion.

“They were a diversion. They will flee as soon as I give the signal,” Sinister answered pressing a button and jumping through the tesseract, Creed following, Remy held tight in his arms.

Up at the mansion, the x-men were turning away the intruders, watching them run before turning to each other. “Why would the Marauders attack us?” Storm asked and then both women turned and looked at the boathouse as Storm whispered Remy’s name. In answer Jean closed her eyes. 

“He’s gone,” she confirmed as she turned toward the house. “Maybe the Professor can track them with cerebro.” She ran in to tell Xavier what had happened.

Outside, Storm looked at Beast a small tear running down her cheek. “We have to find him,” she whispered and Hank nodded his agreement.

“Let’s contact the others,” he answered. “I am sure they must be facing a trap as well.” Ro nodded following Hank into the mansion and feeling helpless. If they didn’t find Remy soon Sinister would begin to work on the empath and Ro imagined the horrors of it.

Scott was barely conscious when he got word from Beast what had gone down. Sitting up and rubbing his head, he listened to the information, his eyes on an unconscious Blockbuster. “I have an idea,” he told the assembled x-men and Beast on the other end of the communication. “I think I know how we can find Wolverine and Gambit.”

…

Remy woke slowly, feeling groggy, his thinking not quite clear as he found himself resting on a sofa. Sitting up and momentarily closing his eyes against the vertigo the quick movements caused he moved slower as he reopened his eyes and looked around, his ruby red orbs trailing across the room to stop at a figure seated at a desk. The soft lighting from the desk lamp did nothing to ease the darker countenance of the figure as Remy stared into the red glaring eyes of Sinister.

“Welcome home, Remy,” he stated softly rising and walking over to examine the Acadian.

“Dis not my home,” Remy answered standing to face the geneticist on equal footing, a hand resting on the sofa arm to steady himself as he glared at the doctor, ignoring the fear that started to grow in the pit of his stomach at waking in the scientist’s lair. Sinister didn’t bother answering; he just looked over him thoughtfully.

“We will have to do something about this rebellious streak,” Sinister answered with a sigh of annoyance but continued watching the Cajun thoughtfully. “McCoy’s done a good job of filling you out. You are still underweight but you are healthier. Perhaps your lover Wolverine had a hand?” He watched the Cajun for a reaction but Remy only stared at the scientist saying nothing though internally he cringed as he realized the scientist knew about his relationship. After a moment Sinister smiled as the empath’s weak shields leaked through his emotional state so that Sinister was able to confirm Creed’s statement. Nodding, Sinister walked to his desk, picking up some items before turning and indicating the door. “Come Remy we have work to do and I’ve been waiting for you to get up. And I have someone I want you to see.” 

“Not going to work wit you or for you,” Remy turned as Sabretooth opened the door and stood expectantly waiting, the pair of mutants reminding the Cajun of spiders in webs ready to consume a fly. Unfortunately, Remy knew just who the fly was.

“Oh, I think you will. I can be…persuasive.” He nodded raising an eyebrow and Remy knowing he would be forced, probably painfully if he didn’t move, followed Essex out the door.

The three walked down a long corridor, Remy’s trained eyes looking for escape routes as he watched various doors and air shafts but Essex didn’t seem to care. In the past, Essex had let Remy roam the complexes he kept him in and the empath guessed this one would be no different as the three men headed toward what Remy could only guess would be the lab. He was actually surprised he woke in Essex’ study and not the lab and was just wondering how long he had been out. He wasn’t wearing the clothes he had arrived in. His clothes had been replaced by a pair of gray sweats probably to remove any possible weapons he carried. “How long have I been here?” he asked with a glance at his captor.

“Two days,” Sinister answered. “While you were still drugged I ran some tests but I need you clear headed for the next test.” Sinister smiled and Remy turned away wondering what the scientist planned to do to him. 

Too soon they reached the lab and the scientist led Remy in and walked him over to a cell watching the empath’s face as he looked in and found Wolverine sitting on the floor. The Canadian looked up his eyes running over Remy as the empath stared back with wide scared eyes. “Logan,” he tried to move forward, reaching for the controls that would free the force field that acted as a door but Creed grabbed him and watching Wolverine’s face pulled Remy to his chest, a hand around Remy’s waist as the young man struggled in the feline’s grip.

Looking at Wolverine, Creed snarled, claiming ownership of the young man and Logan released his claws in threat as he stood in the small cell. Neither behavior went unnoticed by Sinister who watched with interest as the two feral mutants vied for their mate. Ignoring both, the scientist turned back to Remy. “I did say I had someone here I wanted you to see.”

“Let him go,” Remy tried to free himself from Creed’s hold and Sinister signaled Creed to release him. Reluctantly, the feline did. “Dis is between us. Let Wolverine go.” 

Sinister shook his head. “Do you really think I am that foolish?” he asked as he led the empath toward another cell, Wolverine’s eyes following with concern. Unlike Wolverine’s cell which had a small sink and toilet this cell had a small table and chair and on the table a rather large knife. Remy moved forward assuming he was to enter the cell but Sinister held him still and ordered one of the clones working in the lab to enter before Creed locked the cell at the keypad, the thief in Remy almost absently noting the code for locking the cell. “It is your term,” Sinister stated to the empath and moved directly behind him.

“Quoi?” he turned not understanding.

“I want you to turn your empathy on him. Hit him with waves of pain and despair. I want to see him react physically to what you do.”

“Non,” Remy started to back up as Sinister nodded.

“Yes,” the scientist leaned forward. “The past few days with the emotional highs and lows you have been subject to should have your empathy more than ready for use. Now do what I’ve asked.”

“Non, dat’s not right.” Remy had gone sheet white and was trying unsuccessfully to back away from the larger mutant as Sinister leaned forward with a smile that showed his long predatory teeth.

“Do it or I’ll let Creed get another sample from you. This one in front of your lover.”

“Can’ do dis,” Remy whispered looking up at Sinister with pleading eyes, aware that the scientist’s cold heart would never change. “S’il vous plait. I’ll steal for you, work for you but I can’ do dis.”

Slowly, Sinister reached out a hand to stroke a pale soft cheek, Remy feeling Sinister’s hard skin against his own and shivering at the touch. “You are not offering me anything I don’t already have,” he answered. “Now do this or I’ll have Creed take you in front of your lover. I doubt Wolverine would want to see you cum with another man impaling you.”

“I have your notes. I can give dem back,” Remy tried.

“I am sure and I will get them, later. Right now I am waiting.,” he turned the empath around leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “Just drop your shields and concentrate, and if it makes you feel any better, keep in mind this is just a clone.”

It didn’t make Remy feel any better because he knew what he was doing was wrong. And he knew if he did this to the clone than it would only be a matter of time until Sinister demanded that he do this to another mutant or human. “Please,” he whispered and Sinister shook his head

“Creed,” the scientist called in threat and Remy froze his eyes widening as he gave a small hitch of breath to keep his emotions in check and looked at the clone, giving in with a small nod. He knew Sinister would carry out his threat and Remy couldn’t stand the idea of having Creed touch him again, not at all, but certainly not in front of Logan. But even as he prepared to do this he decided he would kill himself before he would do this to anything but a clone. Closing his eyes, Remy centered himself before dropping his shields and pushing outward towards the clone.

All of them felt it at the same time, a sense of loss, pain, despair and though they barely felt it, they could appreciate how much pain was being pushed at the one object in the cell as the clone slumped down in the seat crying piteously before his eyes settled on the knife. As the despair washed over the clone, he sat up and reached for the knife with a trembling hand, taking and holding it as he looked around hopelessly. Then, as if there were no hope for anything else in the world and this was the only escape from pain, he reached out and slashed first one wrist then the other, dropping the knife and watching the blood slide down his wrists to pool on the table before he finally fell forward.

Remy, not seeing the effect yet, continued to push forward until exhausted, he fell back against Sinister, his body drained of energy, his empathy spent. With a smile, Sinister caught Remy and slipped a Genoshan collar around his neck. The last thing the scientist needed was the empath throwing that ability around his base. Moving slightly as the empath recovered and looked in horror at what he had done, Sinister handed Remy to Creed. “I’ve exhausted you,” he said as he took some notes. “So I must let you rest before any further tests.” He watched as Creed tightened his hold, the feline planning on taking the empath back to his bed for some other recreation but Sinister shook his head. “Remy has by far exceeded my expectation. I reward such things; put him with Wolverine for the night.” 

Creed didn’t like that idea, it would spoil his plans but moved to the x-man’s cell and indicated that Wolverine should move back. “If you want the kid, get back against the wall,” he demanded and after a moment Logan did as Sinister punched in the code to release the door and Creed threw the empath at Logan before the scientist locked the door, stepping away. Sabretooth watched Logan catch Remy in his arms holding the empath as he moved back to take a seat the exhausted empath curled against him. “You may have him tonight,” Creed stated coldly, “but he’ll be mine tomorrow.” He turned and walked away as Logan slowly stroked the trembling Cajun.


	13. More Battles

It was almost a half hour before Remy, still in Logan’s arms, finally calmed down and looked at the man holding him, red and back eyes looking haunted and bright with unshed tears. “I killed dat clone,” he whispered before burying his face against Logan’s neck and his lover nodded. There was no use in lying; it wouldn’t make the kid feel any better about what he had done. 

“Yeah, you did but Sinister’s responsible,” Logan answered, letting his hand slide through Remy’s hair. “It ain’t like ya wanted to, Rem. I could hear his threat.” Logan could feel Remy shudder at the statement as the Cajun pushed further into Logan’s hold, seeking security and protection.

“It’s de Morlocks all over again,” Remy whispered brokenly and Logan could feel tears drop onto his neck. Swearing to himself he would kill Sinister for upsetting his lover he sighed.

“It won’t be,” Logan whispered trying to soothe the young man. “Don’t discount us or the x-men. You were little more than a kid when the Morlock’s went down. Yer older and yer not alone anymore.” He pulled his arms tighter around the empath and continued stroking his back and hair until Remy’s breathing evened out and he fell into exhausted sleep.

Logan looked at the bowed head thoughtfully, Remy’s words echoing in his mind. “It’s the Morlocks all over again.” Logan had believed and these words confirmed that the Cajun had been forced into that situation and he needed Remy to see that and throw off the guilt and pain. Remy would never be whole until he did. Leaning down, Logan placed a soft kiss on his lover’s head before leaning back, his head resting against the wall and thinking about their current situation. They were in a tight spot and they would have to watch for an opportunity to get free. But unlike his time with the Marauders, Remy was not alone and outside help would be available for Logan was sure the x-men were looking for them.

Remy didn’t stir and Logan kept still so as not to disturb him but looked up with a scowl some minutes later when a pair of red eyes turned to him from the other side of the cell door. Sinister stood watching them and Logan wished the scientist was within reach of his claws. He would be more than happy to see if the doctor could survive with his heart cut out.

“From your appearance I would think you are not pleased to see me Wolverine,” Essex said with wry amusement and Logan shrugged, unconsciously pulling Remy closer. “I came to make sure Remy was sleeping, if not I planned on giving him a sedative. I need him rested if I am going to work with his empathy but I am glad to see that will be unnecessary.”

Logan looked over at the scientist. “Why do you keep hurting the kid?’

“Keep hurting?” Sinister asked.

“Yeah, we both know you didn’t need to send him in to lead the Marauders to the Morlocks. Creed could have found the way and the rest of the Marauders are all killers, Remy’s not. You did it to hurt him and now you’re doing it with his empathy.”

“Actually, I did not send him with the Marauders to hurt him per se. I did it to control him. I planned on stripping away that annoying moral conscience of his but he got away from me and I had no chance of getting him back until after that farce of a trial when he was vulnerable,” Sinister answered with a smirk.

“Why get him back, you don’t need him?” Logan asked realizing Essex was in a talkative mood and the Canadian figured he should take advantage of the fact and gather what information he could.

“That is where you are completely wrong,” Sinister shook his head. “You x-men and your Professor look at Remy and see only half the picture.” Sinister glanced down at the young man with a cold smile before looking back at Logan; the Canadian getting the impression of a butterfly collector looking at a prize specimen whose wings he was about to pin to a board. “You think you are looking at an alpha class mutant capable of explosions and a little emotional seduction. You’re wrong. When Remy first came to me, I put blocks upon blocks up to keep him from blowing himself up. But you see, Remy is an omega class mutant. Your Professor never knew. I still have many blocks in place, he is not ready to lose them all yet but when I finish with him he will be my greatest servant.”

“Slave you mean.” 

Sinister shrugged in response to the statement. “Does it matter, slave or servant. He will be completely controlled and I will have a master thief, a killer empath, and kinetically charged omega class mutant at my disposal.” Sinister watched Logan’s hand stroke up and down Remy’s back. “I will even see to it that he has feminine companionship, mutant of course. I intend to breed omega class mutants through him.” Sinister smiled seeing Logan’s disgusted look. “It will take time but I will break him eventually.” The scientist turned away but then turned back to look at Logan. “I’ll know he’s broken when I get him to turn his empathy on you and kill you.” Sinister smiled as he left his voice trailing back, knowing Logan’s sensitive ears would hear it. “Until then, take care of him, Wolverine.”

Logan sighed again, watching the scientist leave, the lights going dim in the lab before turning to look at his lover. Listening to the soft breathing, Logan played with the Cajun’s hair, his hand stroking through it as one solitary claw slid out just a little and began working on the collar using the long auburn hair as cover to hide what he was doing. Logan was not trying to cut off the collar, that wouldn’t do, Essex would see that, the Canadian was sure the cell was under video surveillance. Logan wanted to just cut it enough so Remy could break it off with ease when the need arose.

Logan worked slowly, carefully, and when finished, retracted his claws and smiled at the man asleep against him, still thinking of how best to help Remy. What the kid needed was some cards but failing at that he needed something he could charge. Logan looked down. Sinister had taken the kid’s clothes and replaced them with a pair of sweats so there was nothing the kid had he could use but Logan still had his clothes. Slowly, so as not to wake Remy, he eased out of the jacket, stripping down to his tee shirt and draped the jacket over the young man, one hand around Remy’s back while the other began ripping off zippers, buttons and anything else the Cajun could charge.

Finally, he settled back and closed his eyes. He knew he wouldn’t sleep, not here, not now, not with so many enemies around but he needed to meditate and clear his head. Logan knew he couldn’t afford to go feral; not with so much at stake and so he practiced his breathing exercises and relaxed for some time before his senses kicked in to high gear. Opening his eyes he watched as Sabretooth came across the dimly lit room quietly, followed by a much louder Blockbuster and stood outside the cell glaring at Logan’s arm around Remy. The feral part of Sabretooth had claimed Remy and the feline wanted to remove Wolverine’s scent from what Creed looked at as his property. 

“Pretty isn’t he?” the feline whispered watching Wolverine, “with a tight little ass, good for fucking.” He watched the yellow flecks appearing in Logan’s eyes and smiled. “Did he tell you he spilled his cum into a cup for Sinister with me inside him, filling him?” Logan didn’t answer but growled low in his throat, a warning to the other feral that this was his mate and Creed snarled back watching Logan pull Remy close as Blockbuster laughed realizing the two were both interested in the Cajun.

“If it weren’t for this cell, I’d teach you to keep your hands off of him,” Logan growled low in his throat in response and Remy stirred frowning, hearing Logan.

“That right?” Creed looked at Wolverine and glanced around furtively, his eyes taking in Blockbuster before looking back. “We could settle this, down the hall, if you’re man enough.” Creed watched Logan as Remy sat up.

“Against you and Blockbuster?” Logan questioned with disdain.

“No, just me,” Creed answered. “I can take you alone. Blockbuster won’t do anything.”

“Wolverine won’t be all that hard to beat,” Blockbuster threw in his unsolicited and unwanted opinion. “Look I got away from his team. They left with me under a bunch of crates unseen,” he boasted with a laugh and Logan stared at him thoughtfully. Blockbuster was not under a bunch of crates when he went through the tesseract with the Marauders; he was unconscious on the floor. In Wolverine’s mind, that could only mean one thing, the x-men had followed him and were near. He just needed to buy them a little time.

“Cher,” the Cajun questioned weakly waking and turning his head to see Creed standing outside the cell door, his eyes on Remy with a predatory, hungry look. “What…?” he didn’t finish as Logan put a finger to the Cajun’s lip.

“Sabretooth and I have something to settle.” He leaned in close breathing in his mate’s scent and whispered softly, low enough that even Creed wouldn’t hear, “The x-men probably followed Blockbuster and are near so be ready. And don’t let the collar fall off before you are ready to use your charging power.” Gently shifting Remy off of him, Logan pushed the things he had ripped from the jacket unobtrusively into the thief’s hand before standing. “I’m ready.”

“Logan, de Marauders, you can’t fight dem all,” Remy whispered scared and the Canadian turned giving the young man a smile, his eyes telling Remy to stay put and bank on the weapon he had been given. 

“It won’t be all of them, Gambit. It’s just me and the Wolverine in this fight,” Creed answered as he turned to Logan. “This time I won’t have been sitting in the woods for days. This fight is more evenly matched and I’m going to rip off your head and give it to your lover when I take him to my bed.” Creed keyed in the cell door code as Blockbuster kept a weapon trained on Remy and Logan stepped out before Sabretooth closed it again, the two heading down the hall as Remy watched them go, his red eyes wide with fear, Blockbuster watching Remy with a smirk before sauntering out.

At the end of the hall was the rec room and Creed led Logan in, stepping across to stand on one side of the large empty room as Logan looked around. “We won’t be disturbed here,” Creed announced stepping clear of the wall. “And the winner gets the Cajun.” Logan nodded his agreement, claws coming out but the Canadian realized, no matter what, whether he lived or died, he would have to take Creed down and ensure that Creed could never get near the kid again.

“Okay,” he growled in answer, “let’s party.”

…

As Logan and Creed entered the rec room, in his study, Sinister glanced up from his notes and looked at the clock. Smiling in a way that would make a normal person shudder, he decided it was time to work with the empath; Remy would have had some time to rest. The thief had done very well as far as Essex was concerned but they were not yet through all his blocks and the geneticist intended to take more of them down. 

With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the video feed from the cell to check on his two “guests” intending on getting Remy and working on some of the blocks but looking at the cell he frowned. Remy was there, his knees pulled up to his chest, his head resting on his knees but Wolverine was not. With an angry intake of breath, Sinister flicked the dial and looked into the rec room where the two feral mutants were circling each other for position. Sinister sighed and shook his head. He should have known something like this would happen. Neither Wolverine nor Sabretooth would allow another near what they considered their mate and the battle lines were clearly drawn. Thinking it over, Essex shrugged. If Wolverine won and Creed was killed, than Wolverine would be used against Remy. If Creed won and Wolverine were killed than the opposite would happen. Either way, Sinister would lose a valuable tool but he decided the result was inevitable. “Ah well,” he shrugged leaving the monitor on the battle and thinking about his available resources. Blockbuster had not returned from his entanglement with the x-men and Sinister guessed he was either caught or dead but Harpoon was here and Scalphunter, they would bring Remy to him. Watching the battle scene, he flicked another control and waited until Scalphunter picked up a phone.

“What,” the man answered and Sinister raised an eyebrow glancing at the phone. Scalphunter would learn to be more polite or else.

“Get Harpoon and bring me Remy.” He paused momentarily. “Don’t try and get him alone, he can take you down. And I don’t want him harmed.” Sinister hung up not wanting to listen to Scalphunter’s angry reply that he could get the boy alone. Leaning back in the leather of his chair, Essex decided it might be entertaining to allow Remy to watch the battle once he got here.

…

Heading down passed the rec room, Scalphunter and Harpoon walked quickly, Scalphunter’s stride reflecting his anger as Harpoon rushed to keep up until they bumped into Blockbuster. “When did you get back?” Harpoon asked stopping and Scalphunter turned and gave them both a blistering look but stopped waiting. He knew firsthand what could happen if Sinister’s orders were not followed even though he knew he could bring in Gambit alone, especially since the kid was collared.

“An hour ago,” Blockbuster answered. “Where are you going?”

“Sinister wants Gambit,” Harpoon shrugged turning to follow Scalphunter who was waiting down the hall his foul mood evident. “What did Sinister say when you got back?”

“I haven’t seen him yet,” Blockbuster answered turning away. “He had his study door closed and didn’t want to be disturbed.” Harpoon nodded hurrying to catch up and follow Scalphunter into the lab as Blockbuster headed for the kitchen.

Scalphunter and Harpoon entered the lab and moved immediately to the dimly lit cell, looking in and seeing Remy seated on the floor, drawn in on himself. Informing Gambit that Sinister wanted him, they told him to get up, but Remy didn’t respond as they keyed in the entry code. The Cajun, head resting on his knees kept one hand at the back of his neck as though he was trying to relieve tension and didn’t even look up when Scalphunter unlocked the door and again ordered him to get up. When he got no response Scalphunter cursed before stepping into the cell Harpoon beside him. “Get up,” he nudged Remy with a booted foot. “Sinister wants you.” He glanced at the unresponsive figure curled up on the floor. “If you don’t get up I’ll drag you,” he warned and Remy finally looked up at him.

“Don tink so,” he whispered softly, and faster than either Marauder could follow, tossed glowing buttons at them. The small explosion took them by surprise, stunning them and knocking them both back against the sides of the cell as Remy dove out the door and turning hit the key code he had seen, locking them in. 

As Scalphunter sat up his eyes focusing, he cursed at Remy as the thief gave a slight bow and turned and headed away. 

Remy knew he had little time. He had to find Logan and help him against Creed and he had to get them out. What he needed was a diversion and looking around he decided the best diversion was some kind of mess in the lab. Lifting a blaster, he began to play with it, quickly rewiring it, so that it would overload and left it on top of the computer bank. Hoping the weapon would go unnoticed and would cause enough damage, Remy turned and headed out of the lab and down the hall looking for his lover.

…

As Remy hurried down the hall, Creed and Logan were circling each other. Both their clothes were ripped and though no cuts were visible because of their healing factors, there were signs of the intensity of the battle on the bloodied clothes. 

Sabretooth was larger and could use brute strength and speed in battle but Logan was better trained and was more likely to win a drawn out battle. In a quick match, Creed’s size would have the upper hand but as the fight continued Logan’s advantage began to surface. He circled watching his enemy for signs of weakness and realized Sabretooth guarded his right side more than his left. With a snarl, he feinted to the right and then dove in on the left his claws sliding into the unprotected skin of Creed’s abdomen, eliciting a roar of pain from the feline as the two fell backwards onto the floor. Holding his claws in place, even as Creed raked his own claws down Logan’s chest, Logan pushed in closer letting Creed’s claws maul his chest but holding tight, both their bloods mingling until Creed’s hands dropped, Logan’s claws tearing at his abdomen as the larger mutant’s head fell back, his eyes closing.

Pulling free, Logan looked down at Creed and then turned as Remy entered the room, his eyes wide as he looked at his lover. “Logan?” he questioned. “You okay?” he asked coming over and staring down at Sabretooth as he helped the Canadian stand. Logan was hurt, badly from the look of him but he put an arm around his lover protectively and smiled. “Don’t think he’s gonna touch you again, darlin,” he answered in a tight clipped voice as he tried to ignore the pain ripping through him. His instincts told him to go somewhere secluded, curl up and heal but he ignored them knowing he had his mate to protect. Straightening, he staggered momentarily before gaining his balance and Remy looked at him afraid.

“I’ll survive, Rem,” he turned with a slight limp and looked at his young lover giving him a reassuring smile, “but we gotta get movin.”

“We do,” Remy agreed. “I set a diversion in de lab.” He glanced again at Sabretooth. “Is he dead?” Remy whispered and Logan glanced at the feline not seeing any sign of breathing or life. 

“I don’t know maybe, but let’s go,” Logan answered.

“I think not, Wolverine,” came the soft answer from Sinister standing near the door, a weapon in his hand. “I have every intention of keeping both of you,” he lifted the weapon aiming it. “This will be painful, but not permanent,” he promised and aimed for the two x-men but before he could shoot, a blast knocked the gun from his hand and threw him back into the wall, sending him limp to the floor. Looking behind where Sinister had been standing, Remy and Logan could see Cyclops and Kitty standing in the doorway, Cyclops with a hand to his visor.

“Are you two alright?” he asked and the two nodded as an explosion made all four x-men turn in the direction of the noise.

“My diversion may have been bigger den I thought,” Remy answered grabbing Logan’s arm. The two started forward joining Cyclops by the door as another closer explosion shook the room and the four stepped into the corridor as the room began to fill with smoke and flames.

“We’re getting out of here right now,” Scott stated and they turned down the hall. A few yards down, Rogue stood defending the escape route

“We need to get moving, sugar,” she told Scott, dismissing Remy with a cold look and the x-men continued forward until they reached Bobby who stood across from an iced over Prism. 

“We’re clear to the exit,” Bobby stated as they reached him and the x-men headed out of the lab as another explosion rocked the complex blocking the exit behind them.

“Sinister?” Remy whispered turning and staring at the base.

“Dead I hope,” Logan answered as they headed for the blackbird.

On the blackbird, Remy took the seat beside Logan as Cyclops and Rogue started the plane and took off, leaving the destroyed base behind. Remy looked down and glanced over the destruction hoping never to see Creed or Essex again. As he relaxed, the stress of what he had been through began to hit home and he gave a small shudder as he moved closer to his lover. Logan feeling Remy’s nervousness smiled and took the Cajun’s hand glancing sideways at him. “Rem,” he said softly. “When we get back you really have to work with the Professor. You need to make sure yer shields are strong.” Remy nodded his agreement and Logan shook his head. “You’re gonna have to work with the Professor, not just look at him across his desk,” he warned resting back and closing his eyes.

“I will Cher,” Remy promised quietly, shifting uncomfortably before settling against Logan.

Once safely airborne, Bobby came over to see them. Remy looked worn and Logan had his head back and his eyes closed as his body continued healing. “You two okay?” he asked. “We were worried about you but we couldn’t do anything until Blockbuster arrived at the base. All we could do was follow him. We figured he’d lead us to you so we put a tracking device on him.”

“Glad ya did,” Logan opened one eye and looked over Iceman. “We needed a lift home.” Beside him Remy smiled at the comment as Logan closed his eyes leaning back and Bobby took a seat. 

The minute the Blackbird landed, Scott dragged Logan and Remy into the Professor’s office for a debriefing as Hank emerged from the lab to check on the newly returned x-men. The debriefing was short, Remy admitting he had killed the clone as he stared at the floor in shame before the Professor discussed the serious training the empath would begin the next day. Logan discussed his battle with Sabretooth but didn’t share Sinister’s insights into Remy’s abilities deciding the Cajun should hear them first. Only after Remy understood his abilities and potential would the Professor and Scott hear about them.

After a brief visit with Hank the two returned to the boat house where Logan sat the Cajun down on the coach. “I’ll get a fire started and then make dinner,” he offered but Remy shook his head no.

“I do de cookin, Cher.” Remy answered but Logan looking over the empath shook his head no.

“You are goin to take a cat nap while I cook. I want you well rested for later,” he winked as he worked on the fireplace and Remy smiled giving in. 

By the time Logan finished cooking, he was pretty much healed. His chest was a little tender but other than that he was fine. It came as no surprise when Storm turned up some time later and Logan reflected that he should have automatically set three plates. The three relaxed as they ate and talked and let the stress of the day dissipate. After dinner, Storm offered to clean up and then headed up to the mansion as Remy and Logan headed up to bed.

In the bedroom, Remy let his fingers slide over Logan’s chest. There were no signs of the battle he had fought, no visible scars but the thief knew there had to be emotional scars. “Cher, I,” he stopped, saying thanks just didn’t seem enough of a response. He swallowed slowly and took Logan’s hand in his own. “I love you,” he finally whispered his eyes dropping down, scared of the statement and its possible repercussions. Logan smiled and leaned in close, his lips just above Remy’s.

“I love you too, Rem.” He captured the soft lips and Remy gave a soft whimper as Logan’s mouth began to explore his body. Logan didn’t really have the energy for prolonged love making after the events of the day and so the sex was quick but satisfying to both. The act was not really about sex, it was about commitment and love and a very satisfied Cajun curled into Logan after the sex, letting his hand run over Logan’s chest as his head rested just below Logan’s chin.

“Jus before I met up wit you,” he couldn’t believe it had been little more than a week ago, “I met dis old woman. She tol me dat my soul mate was up north and I should go dat way.” Remy could feel Logan’s arms tighten around him. “When I tol her I wouldn’t go to de x-men she gave me a gris-gris and said she put me on de path. De gris-gris was what kept Sinister from dragging me into de tesseract so you could find me.” Remy looked up at Logan. “She set me on de path to you Cher.”

“Forever, Rem, you’re mine now.” Logan tilted the young man’s head and kissed him, throwing all his love at the Cajun. He knew Remy would have strong shields up soon but for now Remy could feel Logan and he smiled as he felt the mental caress.

…

Epilogue – two months later

Christmas was a week away and Remy had come into Manhattan to do a little last minute shopping. He needed a gift for his lover. He wasn’t on active duty yet but his shields were firmly in place and the Professor had given Scott the okay to put him on the active list with the start of the New Year. It had been a hard struggle. He hadn’t wanted to let the Professor in his head but it was necessary and Remy had done it. They had even discussed the other blocks and Sinsiter’s claim that Remy was an omega class mutant. But after much discussion and Remy’s obstinate refusal to remove the blocks, they had let it go deciding when the time was right the Cajun would free the rest of his mutant abilities.

Walking down Broadway, Remy looked around and frowned seeing an old shop with dirty windows and a sign on the door promising accurate fortune telling. Walking in, he watched the old sightless woman as she turned and smiled. “My charm worked,” she said as Remy crossed the room to stand before the woman. “You have found your soul mate.”

“Oui,” Remy agreed looking down at the woman. “I wouldn’t without your help,” he admitted and the woman nodded.

“Sometimes people can’t see what is right before them.” She reached out her hand and Remy grasped it, feeling the strength in the old bones.

“Thank you,” he said softly and reaching down gave the old woman’s cheek a kiss bringing a smile to the old woman.

“Sometimes the fates need to answer the cries of an empath. It’s a hard life, a hard path you must follow, but you don’t have to follow it alone.” She pulled her hand back. “Good fortune to you child,” she offered and indicated the door and Remy turned to stare at it. When he turned back, she was gone and he was standing in high raise building’s main lobby. Smiling to himself, he went to find Logan’s present.


End file.
